When a black cat crosses your path
by Manascript
Summary: It's either considered bad luck or good luck depending on where you live. It would be a very long time before she would ever admit it was the latter for her... A routine of checklists, requirements, and responsibilities colliding with lives of games, deadly volleyballs, scheming captains, and unique players. She needed a life, and they needed a manager
1. Chapter 1

**For those of you who follow my other story, I apologize. Things happened, and I nearly lost the will to continue and redo my rough drafts. I'm back now, better than ever, but I want to maintain my original purpose for joining this site: to enjoy writing. That doesn't mean I will give up on my other story. I'm still determined to complete the things I publish, but now I'm content with doing it at my own pace.**

 **This story (along with another that I will not post yet because it's still in the reworks, but preview: It's a Marvel cinematic universe ff) has been in my head for a while now ever since I got into the Haikyuu hype. Growing watching and reading a bunch of sports mangas, I was so happy to find one like Haikyuu with a diverse group of complex and intriguing characters.**

 **Despite the genre, this story won't solely revolve around the romantic dynamic. I always wanted to try a slice-of-life type of story with real life issues and drama, which includes romance but also friendship and family themes with it. (to be honest, romance is not my niche though I'm trying to get better at it). Enough of me rambling, you'll figure it out. Hope you guys like it.**

 **-Mana**

Prologue: The Encounter

It was time.

BAM

A firm, calloused fist slammed onto the table, rattling the plates of food as well as the peace and quiet of several high school boys. It didn't take a second glance to know who was the source of the commotion.

"Damnit, we need a manager!" Yamamoto Taketora was a hot blooded young man. It went without saying that he was riled up easily, and while some would call it a fiery passion, most of his teammates preferred a more accurate and simpler term: idiotic.

But while on most days in practice many would ignore his loud mouthed idiocy, they were currently in a restaurant. It was unbecoming for Yamamoto to be…Yamamoto in a place like this, albeit the chef was used to the boys by now and simply turned a blind eye to his antics.

"Shut up, Yamamoto." A short, blond haired boy and the libero of Nekoma, Yaku Morisuke was the unofficial keeper of the peace in the group, although, ironically he also had his short-tempered tendencies.

His words were completely ignored by the rebelliously haired ace of Nekoma High School's volleyball team.

"A manager who is beautiful! Cute! Gorgeous! Ostentatious! Resplendent-"

"Does he even know what those words mean?" Yaku wore an exasperated look.

"I doubt he can even spell them." Kuroo Testuro, captain and middle blocker, remarked while nabbing the tail piece of grilled mackerel onto his rice bowl.

"-a manager that will make us the envy of other schools!" The blond mowhawked ace continued, deaf to the verbal jabs in his zealous speech.

"What if the other schools already have a pretty manager?" A gangly, silver haired first year, Haiba Lev innocently asked while munching. He was their newest addition and he showed promise of being a great volleyball player.

"All the more reason we need one for ourselves! Imagine going to camp and being the only school without one?" The stress on Yamamoto's visage seemed rather melodramatic in their opinion. "Worse, what if those damn crows have one?"

"Your priorities for wanting a manager are completely off." Yaku sighed, closing his eyes as though it would help make the embarrassing sight of Yamamoto lessen. "But it would be nice to have someone help the team handle some of the logistical stuff."

"Yaku has a point." A calm voice entered into the discussion; Kai Nobuyuki, Nekoma's Vice captain, a dark skinned third year of perpetual composure.

"Oi, it was MY idea!" Yamamoto whined.

He was predictably ignored by the third years.

"Well ideally, we need a first year or even a second year who hasn't already involved themselves in a club." The captain muttered thoughtfully before turning to the first years.

"Anyone in your classes might be interested?"

Lev shrugged, "Dunno. Most of them are already a part of a club." Most of them were guys anyway.

"And some of them don't really seem like the responsible type." Shibayama Yuki, a first year libero, appeared a bit apologetic. "Like Kuroo-senpai's fangirls."

That only fueled Yamamoto's ire. "Fangirls? Why the hell does he have fangirls? Don't I have fangirls?" He fumed. "What do they see in his bed hair and scheming face?"

"Chicks dig my sexy hair and face." Kuroo smirked deviously before continuing the conversation. "We don't really have the luxury to be picky. If she's a fangirl that does her job, I don't mind. A plus if she's cute."

"Don't be stupid." A monotonously soft spoken voice intervened Kuroo's train of thought. While most teammates would balk at the gall of an underclassman speaking to an upperclassman in such a manner, Kozume Kenma had the exception as Kuroo's childhood friend.

A curtain of dyed blond hair obscured the setter's face as he leaned down to focus on his handheld gaming console. "A fangirl sounds annoying. I don't want to deal with another one of your admirers." He scowled at the thought. There were girls in his year who would try vying for his attention in order to weed out information on Kuro. It was annoying and daunting.

"Well then." Kuroo shrugged. "Know anyone in second year?"

Unknown to the team, Kenma's mind was already in work. It was like starting an RPG where you would have to select your character's profile and consider the best way to build them depending on the strategy and story path you chose. In this case, the team would need a cleric or a support mage who had the abilities and resources to be the backbone of the team. Someone well organized, diligent, practical, and unflappable. Intelligence and observation skills would be a bonus, not to mention some maturity that would balance out the childish tendencies of some of their teammates (Lev. Sou, and Yamamoto especially). He mentally sifted through the abysmally small network of students he knew of, from bare acquaintances to classmates and even friends.

Kenma's social pool was small, but miraculously, his thoughts fell onto one person.

"Ah." He confirmed softly, returning to his console. He didn't say anything else, but his teammates were nonetheless startled. The last person they would expect to have someone was Kozume Kenma. The boy wasn't exactly known for being an extrovert. Even Kuroo was surprised. He was Kenma's best friend. The boy didn't really have friends outside of the team and him.

"Eh?!"

"Who?!"

"Since when did you KNOW people? Especially girls?"

"She was my tutor. Homeroom teacher introduced us because my English grades were bad." Bad had been an understatement. He had been failing. But by some miracle, she had boosted his grade to a passable standard freshman year. They never talked much after that, but she had been someone he found pleasant to be around with her calm aura and firm maturity.

"Is she cute?" Lev asked with Yamamoto vigorously nodding to his question.

"Doesn't matter." He deadpanned. "That shouldn't be a priority."

"Damnit, then she's a gorilla!" Yamamoto looked close to tears. He could imagine it now. Karasuno and other rival teams having pretty managers who smiled beatifically while they had a juggernaut girl who carried volleyball carts with her bare hands. It was too painful.  
"Why can't we have nice things?"

Yaku the second year's childishness. "Stop talking like the girl already agreed."

"Or just stop talking in general." Kuro growled.

/

When they paid for their meal, Yaku made it his personal duty to apologize to the chef for any disturbance they've caused, but the old man merely waved off his apology. At this rate, it was the norm of the restaurant to have Yamamoto's voice echo throughout the establishment.

The sun was starting to set but with the weather being nice, the Nekoma team debated on a quick volleyball game for fun. Per usual, Kenma looked less than pleased. If it wasn't a mandatory practice, he'd rather just go home and play his video games.

The setter was about to decline and head home when they heard commotion nearby.

"I'm not interested, so please get out of the way. Otherwise, I'll be late for dinner." That voice. It sounded familiar. It was the same voice that spoke English so many times last year.

"Eh, c'mon baby, don't play hard to get. Just a name and number then?" Now that voice not familiar. Amber eyes searched and found the source across the street.

That hair bun… Those strawberry blonde locks struck the setting light in a dusted pink hue. The said owner of the hair wore the Nekoma high school girl's uniform. The simple sailor outfit with the navy cardigan, along with a pair of grey leggings.

What a coincidence. It was her.

Granted it's been months since he saw her during his 1rst year days, but he knew that hair color and leggings anywhere. She always wore leggings or long track pants of some sort, even in the middle of summer, and her hair was always bundled in a bun one way or another to keep it from bothering her.

There was a bag of groceries in her hand, and while they didn't seem all too heavy, her pale knuckles held them in a tightened, tendon bulging grip. The boy in front of her was a stranger. A different school uniform that was disheveled with dyed, red hair and pierced ears. He was holding a cigarette in between his fingers. No doubt some sort of delinquent, wearing a confident and rather perverse smirk. He towered over her dainty stature like a vulture ready to nab a lemming.

Yet, height did not seem to discourage her. She stood tall and firm against the bigger foe, back straight and chin held high.

"Please step aside. And put the cigarette away please."

"Aw, concerned for me already. At least let me buy you dinner first." He took a long drag from his cigarrette, leaving the stick in his mouth as he fished for his phone.

She stepped back. "I asked you twice."

Ah, Kenma knew that tone. He could imagine the expression she was wearing. Those pale blue eyes of her would probably look like ice chips by now, ready to stab icicles into the heart of her enemies or cast some bewitching frost spell. He shuddered at the memory of those eyes perusing through his English evaluations, looking colder with each red mark of error on his paper.

"Just your number and name, baby, I promise I'll show you a good ti-"

The delinquent never finished his sentence.

The entire Nekoma volleyball team gawked as the girl struck a bonafide high kick. Torso twisted, legs stretched into a full 180 split in a startling display of flexibility, her sneakers clad foot smashed the lower part of the delinquent's face, cigarette and all, sending him toppling over several trash bins. His fingers were on his mouth and nose, and from the red Kenma could see, he was bleeding.

"T-the fu-"

"I asked you twice." Her head was still held high. "Don't make me ask a third time." Kenma felt chills at the venom in her calm voice. "If anything, you should be thanking me. Smoking will take away more years of your life than a kick to the face."

"B-bitch!"

"Oya oya." Kenma glanced at Testuro and froze. There was a strange glint in his dark eyes. If that wasn't unnerving, Kuroo began grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Eh?"

"I think it's time to save the damsel in distress." Without further ado, Testuro Kuroo began crossing the street, leaving his baffled teammates to watch.

Damsel in distress? Distress did not seem to fit the word to describe the picture...

/

/

 **Earlier that day:**

"Lee-san!"

What did he want now? This was the fifth time this month the Student Council's treasurer approached her for a favor. While she wasn't a pushover by any means, she owed the boy's family for looking after her youngest brother during her middle school days. Those had been rough times.

"Yes?" There was little warmth in her tone as she began binding her hair up into its usual bun. Her countenance alone made it hard to approach her cheerfully, to the point where gossip spread that her frosty blue eyes could put out fires. So while Iura Shu, treasurer of the Student council, was accustomed to her ice, he meekly refused to meet her eyes.

Meaning that her theory was correct.

"I'm really sorry, but this month is kinda crazy with the sports festival coming up."

Ah, the sports festival. Her most disliked day of the school year. Last year, she managed to weasel out of participating due to her younger brother catching the flu and needing care, but this year she doubted they would take similar excuses.

"-and I'm so swamped with assignments. Could you help me organize the finances?" He clasped his hands together in a praying posture. It did not soften the stoicism etched on her face.

She fought the urge to sigh. Reaching into her desk, she pulled out a leather-bound planner and pen. There was a sale on eggs and tomatoes today in the grocery store after school. If she stayed for an extra hour at school, the probability of them being sold out would be high. Luckily the store clerks would most likely save her a batch on the sales because they knew and liked her enough.

 _Ideally, I'll be done with this in an hour's time. Get to the grocery store by 5pm and be at home in time to make dinner at 6:30. Tedious but doable._

"Very well." She confirmed, ignoring the brightening expression on the boy's face.

"Really?! Thanks! After the sports festival, I'll take you out to dinner sometime!" There was an underlying tinge of hope in his voice. Classmates who noticed this only shook their head or rolled their eyes. Everyone knew of the boy's infatuation with their year's valedictorian.

"There is no need, Iura-san." She rejected his offer bluntly enough to extinguish the joy on his face. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She left the crestfallen boy at a brisk pace, there were things that needed to be done and punctuality was key if she wanted to do things on schedule.

"It's Shu..." Iura Shu weakly muttered, hanging his head low while watching the girl depart.

"Don't take it to heart, Shu." A classmate consoled. "Lee-san isn't known as an 'yuki-onna*' for nothing."

"Ironic, considering her name." Another joked before returning to their studies.

/

/

She was running late. Small feet hurried through the street, carefully minding pedestrians as she weaved her way through. Organizing the financial chart had taken longer than anticipated. She underestimated Iura Shu's tendency to be disorganized when preoccupied and had to take an extra step to recalculate the added funds from a fundraiser he missed before distributing them to the proper areas. Honestly, how that boy maintains his position in the student council was harder to understand than Keynesian philosophy. It wasn't because he was brilliant at his job. She would know… student council president had come to her personally several times to request she join them as "co-treasurer", but after being denied thrice, the third time with a little more than minor annoyance, he learned to stop asking. She hated repeating herself, and there was little doubt in her mind that "co-treasurer" would soon turn into "treasurer" if she did.

At the rate this was going, she would have to take a shortcut. Speeding up her jog, she took a quick turn into an alley, startling a few unsuspecting stray cats that yowled in fright.

"Ah, sorry!" She exclaimed, promising them treats the next time she came by. Coiling the muscles of her right leg, she took a leap and kicked off the pipe ledge on the building wall, gaining an extra boost to leap herself over the chain link fence. She felt a tug on her right leg as the metal snagged her gray leggings. Berating herself inwardly for not wearing sweatpants, she landing on the other side and examined her leg. There was a tear where the wire caught stretch material, revealing a hard, plastic surface where the calf skin would be.

At times like these, it was fortunate she had a prosthetic leg. If it were her other leg, there would have been a nasty cut needing antibiotics and stitches later on...

There was a time when the loss of her limb nearly broke her. She had hated everything about her prosthetic leg and her handicapped condition to the point of depression and rage. So many dreams and hopes lost with her leg. The mere mention of being an 'amputee' once made her sick to the core. Even now she was still reluctant to expose herself as one, but at least she could think optimistically to a degree about it.

Now it was just a part of her.

 _Shouyou would be proud I took his words to heart._

She still remembered that sunny boy's words that day in the hospital. He probably forgot, considering how he was, not knowing the impact he made by giving her the willpower not to give up after the accident.

She wondered what he was doing now. The boy was probably entering freshman year. Perhaps he was joining the volleyball team he avidly loved back then.

Her idle thoughts stopped when she spotted the grocery store. Sure enough, the clerks had saved her a batch on the sales, to which she profusely bowed and thanked them for. It took her less than 15 minutes to finish her shopping, which added an extra 5 minutes in her time to get home. Perfect. She wasn't going to be late.

At least, she wasn't until there was an obstacle in her way-an obstacle in the form of a nauseating cigarette smell and stupid face.

She fought the urge to grimace at the boy in her path.

"Hey babe, that bag looks a bit heavy. Need some help?"

"No, thank you." She deadpanned, aiming to curve around him. To her souring mood, he stood in her way again, wafting more of the nauseating cigarette smell in her face.

"You're from Nekoma right? Your school uniform looks familiar. I've met a few girls from Nekoma, but none of them looked like you."

"I don't care." She was going to give the boy ten minutes before kicking him in the groin.

Unlike others, he didn't flinch at her dark tone. What a fool. If her little brother faced the brunt of her current tone, he'd be cowering because he knew what followed after.

"Kitten has some bite, eh? I like that. You don't look like you're from around here like the other Japanese girls. Gotta foreign mom or dad?"

Nevermind, make it _five_ minutes.

"I'm not interested, so please get out of the way. Otherwise, I'll be late for dinner." Did she need to spell it out for the idiot?

"Eh, c'mon baby, don't play hard to get. Just a name and number then?" He lit a cigarette, grinning all the while he did so. The boy looked to be a third year, perhaps a year or two older than her. How disgusting. He shouldn't be smoking at that age.

Speaking of her little brother, if Hibiki were here, he would have pummeled the boy with kicks by now.

"Please step aside. And put the cigarrette away please."

He had two minutes. Two minutes before she would make her move.

"Aw, concerned for me already. At least let me buy you dinner first." He took a long drag from his cigarette and fished for his phone.

Some of the cigarette smoke blew into her face, nearly forcing her to cough as she inhaled the ashy scent.

That just about did it. Forget aiming for his groin. She was going to make sure that cigarette was going _out_.

"I asked you twice."

Uncle always said to ask twice before you stop being nice.

Another perk about having a prosthetic foot was that the likeliness of an ankle injury due to an improper kick was highly unlikely because there was no ankle. And having metal, carbon fiber, and plastic reinforce the kick made it _hurt_.

"Just your number and name, baby." He grinned lecherously, eyes roaming her body, focusing on her chest. "I promise I'll show you a good ti-"

Years of rhythmic gymnastics and martial arts classes showed their benefits when she sprung her leg for a high kick. Her foot met its mark with frightening precision, extinguishing the cigarette. It threw him off balance and sent him careening straight into the trash bins, knocking them apart like a bowling ball against pins.

"T-the fu-"

"I asked you twice." If glares could kill, hers would. "Don't make me ask a third time." She huffed. "If anything, you should be thanking me. Smoking will take away more years of your life than a kick to the face."

The fallen young man fought the coldness clutching his gut. Those baby blue eyes seemed to glow with a hollow wrath as the fringe of her side bangs shadowed them, adding to the frightening effect.

"B-bitch!" He didn't want to admit defeat just yet. No way was he going to now, with his pride on the line. Girl be damned, he wasn't going to let her get away unscathed. Standing up taller than ever, the young man loomed over her, hoping to make her grovel once she clearly noticed the difference in power.

"You're going to regret that."

"I could say the same for you when you get lung cancer in a decade." She snapped back, refusing to be daunted. Meanwhile, her mind raced in the process. If he was going to come at her, it would be with his fist. Most people always thought of their fists first, and considering the way he clenched his into a tightened ball, it was very likely going to be a right hook.

Running was not an option. She was weighed down with her groceries and the thought of abandoned the groceries was out the window. They had been on sale, no way was she letting that go to waste.

And screaming for help… The mere thought of that soured her dignity. This was her situation that she needed to deal with herself. She got herself into this mess, she would get herself out. Even if she was bruised doing so. That was how life worked. She couldn't expect people to come to her aid.

So that was why _he_ was so unexpected.

A deep voice coated in mischief cut through the tension.

"Babe, there you are." A hand made its way around her waist, pulling her to the warm side of someone's torso.

If her head snapped up any faster, she would have suffered a neck injury. Sharp, felid dark eyes met her questioning gaze with fake familiarity. Concern lacing his voice, he only held her closer, not minding her flabbergasted face.

"I told you to call me when you're close. There's some weird perverts nearby." His smiling expression then stretched further into what she could only describe as a predatory grin.

"Speaking of weird perverts, who the fuck are you? Trying to flirt with my girlfriend?"

Girlfriend. What? Who the heck was this guy? Her mind seemed to work slowly as though it were jammed by thick syrup. Eyes slow to absorb the sight of the newest arrival, she stood in his arms, frozen and silent. He towered over her, like most men did, donned in the Nekoma uniform. Black hair in dissaray as though he woke up and did nothing to fix it. He had a face and disposition reminding her of a scruffy, feral alley cat.

"Who the fu-gah." There was a messy smudge of blood caking the lower half of his face. His swelling upper lip made it painful to speak further.

"Cat got your tongue?" His grin faded into a vicious sneer. "Scram if you know what's good for you."

"Listen you sonova-"

"Oi..." As if his sneer wasn't enough, another towering boy came into view, scowling as he loomed behind the delinquent. "Is this fucker bothering you, Kuroo?" He snarled.

The delinquent's anger morphed into terror. Soon, there was a gathering of male students from Nekoma high school coming into view. They were drawing closer like a pride of prowling lions ready to pounce on an lone hyena.

She almost felt sorry for the young man.

"I'll be nice and give you a second chance to scram." The mocking grin returned on the messy haired leader of the group. This time there was little hesitation. Nursing his bruised nose and mouth, the delinquent fumbled on his feet before scampering off with his imaginary tail tucked between his legs.

She fought the urge to sigh. Problem one was solved but now she had problem two. How was she going to escape the clutches of this crowd? Running was not an option, not without causing commotion. So she opted for the diplomatic approach.

"That was unnecessary, but thank you." She held back a flinch when eyes fell to her. It was like being stared at by the stray cats in the garbage dump, only these were human sized cats. "I-I need to get going now." She squirmed her way out of the tall tousle haired stranger, who relented his grip without hesitation. His Cheshire grin had faded into a simple expression of curiosity, now that she had his full attention.

She nearly grew giddy with hope when there was not a move to stop her, but the hope was quickly crushed when the boy with the blond mohawk and snarling tone from earlier stepped forward.

"Eh, I know you. You're Lee Haruka, you're in my grade. Second year right?"

"Uh..."

"Since when did you get chummy with anyone outside of volleyball?" The tousle haired one, Kuro or something along the lines of that name, cast his curious gaze to his friend.

"She's our grade's genius."

"Er. Yes." How people out of her grade and class knew her identity was beyond her. Yes, she was considered the valedictorian, but it was not a title she took massive pride in. She was just a bit of a perfectionist.…Or a person with OCD, Hibiki would mockingly proclaim.

Speaking of her brothers, by now they would be home and hungry. She needed to go home and prepare something.

"I really need to-"

"Haruka-san."

She felt her temper spike and turned to give the latest intruder a piece of her irk, only for her aggravation to be replaced by surprise at the familiar face.

"Kozume…Kenma?" Ah, it _was_ Kenma. His face had stayed the same in its perpetual, cat-like expression of calm, although the blond dye accenting his hair was new. It resembled something akin to pudding or chocolate flan.

"Ah. Long time no see." Indeed. It's been months since they've last met. She had been his tutor long enough to be on friendly terms, but conflicting schedules soon ended their meetings.

"This is your volleyball team then?" He had mentioned he was on a team before, but she was surprised he remained. Last year, he always complained about the physical strain volleyball forced him into, especially since he didn't favor the would've assumed he would quit by now.

"Ah."

"And I'm Kuroo Testuro. Volleyball captain." The tousle haired teen slid his introduction, pasting his face with what was supposed to be a charming grin. The setter almost rolled his eyes at his friend's attempt to flirt. He needed to stop the playboy attitude with this girl. While most females under Kuroo's flirtatious attention would swoon or blush, this was Lee Haruka. Seeing her expression, Kenma could only deduce that she hadn't warmed- 'or defrosted' her initial manners since last year. The girl wasn't called _yuki-onna_ for nothing.

As he suspected, the girl did not fall for Kuroo's charm. It was likely she did not notice it. She looked rather preoccupied.

"Er…Pleasure." She greeted briskly, returning her attention to Kenma. "My apologies, Kenma. I'd like to catch up with you sometime and check on your grades-" Kenma almost cringed at the mention of his academics. The girl still had her _sensei-mode_ tendencies even now. "-but…"

"You probably have somewhere to be, and these guys are in your way." He finished for her while casting his teammates a light glare, urging them to clear a path for her. Most were regarding her in silence, no doubt still stunned that the dainty, well mannered girl was the same one that performed a violent but no less impressive high kick.

She would've hugged the boy if her arms weren't full and if she were the hugging type. Kozume Kenma's keenness to detail was something she always highly regarded. He also had a golden heart once people got past his apathetic and lax exterior.

"Thank you, Kenma." She gave him a light, hurried bow before departing at a jogging pace.

The team watched the girl jog until she rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. Then proceeded to pin their setter with a torrent of questions.

"Oi, Kenma! Since when were you on first name basis with Lee Haruka?" Yamamoto all but roared, pointing an accusatory finger at the setter.

"Since she was his tutor." Kuroo finished, grinning his scheming grin once more. "Oi, you never said your English tutor 1rst year was her."

"You never asked, and I didn't want to tell." He hadn't wanted to risk scaring Haruka off with Kuroo's predatory tendencies when it came to people, especially girls, he was interested in. He would have been forced to find another tutor for his English.

Yaku blinked several times, absorbing the information. "Wait, if she was that tutor. Does that mean you were thinking about her as our potential manager?"

Kenma was interrupted before he could even speak. "Oooooooh! I approve, Kenma-senpai! She looks like she fits the mold perfectly." Lev raised his fist, grinning with excitement.

"But she doesn't seem like the type who would say yes easily." Kai commented thoughtfully.

Kenma wanted to disagree. While Haruka was not involved in any clubs, she wasn't the type of girl who rejected people who needed her easily.

Yamamoto suddenly grasped his shoulders, silencing the setter."Yooooosh, Kenma!" He all but roared. "Make it your MISSION! GET LEE HARUKA TO SAY YES TO BECOMING MANAGER HARUKA!"

"Shut up Yamamoto. You make it sound like you want her to marry the team." Yaku grimaced, before contiuing. "It can't hurt to ask though." A chorus of responses followed:

"Yeah, Kenma-Senpa, ask!"

"Be a man! Go up to her and slam your hand on her desk while leaning-"

"She'll be with a bunch of handsome men. What girl doesn't want that?"

"Beg her. Grovel if you have to."

"Maybe we can bribe her."

"Can everyone just shut up?" Kenma all but hissed, bristling in his annoyance. Seriously, this team had some weird mental problems. When the ruckus of demands and questions went quiet at the brunt of his anger, he sighed. "I'll ask. But don't get your hopes up."

His calm tone belied the anxiety broiling in his gut. Of all his teammates, he was the least bit qualified to be some recruiter. He was painfully awkward and shy.

Hopefully, Lee Haruka would take pity on their situation. The girl, contrary to belief, had a soft heart for people who needed her.

/

/

Their home was a part of the more well off districts of Tokyo in a suburban neighborhood in Hiroo. The location had been an ideal place for them to settle after her father received his latest contract with a software engineering firm and game developing company. With all three of his children attending different schools, this neighborhood had been the most conveniently located. It was a pleasant place, if not a bit too spacious for her liking for a home in the city. They were a family of four with one member who slept in more hotels than in his own bedroom. Yet, they had a two story house with enough external space for a balcony, porch, and backyard. It was a pretty, if not a picture perfect house. But it was also a house that one person could become lonely in if left alone long enough.

Stepping into the iron gates, she took time to greet their dog: Sirius, a Korean Jindo dog. He had been a gift from a family friend in the rural south of Korea who's family specialized in breeding the dogs. Black nosed and white furred from the tip of his ears to the end of his tail, he was a proud and-no pun intended-serious canine who stayed true to his breed's nature as a dignified guard dog.

He sniffed her outstretched and and huffed before leaning for his customary ear-scratch causing Haruka's lips stretched into a small smile.

"Smelling the stray cats, Siri? Sorry about that. But those babies don't have anyone to look after them like you look after me. They need a good head rub too."

Intelligent amber eyes regarded her calmly before squinting in pleasure as his owner proceeded to give him a good chin-rub. She gave the dog a solid minute of her attention before heading into the house.

"Tadaima~, sorry I'm late." Haruka nearly wanted to lean against the door in her exhaustion. Her left knee joint ached from the extended strain on the prosthetic. It wasn't the sports model and thus wasn't made for the jogging, jumping, (and high kick), she did today.

Per usual, her three brothers came to greet her.

Hibiki, the second eldest child of the Lee household, stood about a good half head over her at the age of 15-and the boy was still in his growth spurt. It wasn't fair, but that was genetics. He appeared to have inherited his parent's heights. His hair was like hers but a bit darker in its strawberry blond shade, leaning towards a more fiery tone while hers was a lighter, rose gold hue. After his recent desire to go for a 'chic hipster' style-she wasn't really up to date with whatever the younger kids called it nowadays- Hibiki had grown his hair into a top knot while shaving the sides. His eyes were like their fathers; sharp, bespectacled, and light in its amber color. And while he mirrored her tendency to don a stoic visage, he tended to be more emotionally sensitive than his sister. Such was the nature of someone who's main passion and aspiration was in music.

Hiro, Hibiki's twin and technically the second youngest by 10 minutes, was identical in appearance to his genetic counterpart in every way but was of a softer nature with shorter hair. While Hibiki could be short tempered and snappy, Hiro was a more collected individual of gentle disposition. Hibiki was an argumentative person while Hiro was a natural diplomat who could befriend an angry bull if one gave him the chance. He often let Hibiki be the stylist for both of them, not minding sharing the same fashion with his twin. But appearance aside, while Hibiki was the musician, Hiro was the visual and culinary artist. Photos and drawings were plastered all over his wall, his work desk was cluttered with camera and computer equipment, and the kitchen was often filled with an assortment of expensive equipment he used to make his foods. One day it was a searing hot curry, another day it would be some weird french dish none of them could pronounce until a few tries.

And then there was their youngest. Hikaru was like his namesake, a bright light. With chestnut hair sticking out in waves, his eyes were as blue as a robin's egg, and they were always bright with joy and innocence. At seven, he was a happy child who was rather sharp for his age and much smarter than many adults would give him credit for. But he wasn't one to boast or try his best to stand out, unlike Hibiki. No, he was quite simple in that aspect and content to stay giggly and happy much to the delight of his siblings and had his fair share of mishaps because of his hyper attitude.

"Welcome home!"Hiro smiled from his spot on the couch, remote in hand, Hikaru leapt forth and embraced her tightly, and Hibiki was content to lean against the wall with his arms crossed.

"You're late." He commented.

"You're early." She replied back. Hibiki usually had rehearsals that would last until 7.

"Sensei sent me home after I showed him I could play the dumb piece better than anyone else."

"You mean he sent you home for being an arrogant prick." She teased blandly while ruffling Hikaru's hair.

Hibiki rolled his eyes while Hiro switched channels, asking. "What's for dinner?"

"I was going to make omurice curry, but now I think I'll make shitake mushroom pasta." She smiled sweetly.

Hibiki scowled. "You wouldn't dare." He hated shitake mushrooms, and his sister knew it.

"I'm okay with anything!" Hiro replied.

Hikaru nodded vigorously." Nee-chan always makes the best food! No offense Hiro-nii!" Hiro still pouted. Meanwhile, HIkaru hopped up and down. "Nee-chan, today I saw the beach volleyball tournament happening in the US, and the people were super tall and they jumped so HIGH on the sand which is weird cuz doesn't sand provide less footing for a good jump for a spike? and then I saw a sports documentary on resistance training and thought maybe the sand jumping makes a person jump higher on firm ground. Neh, can we go to the beach sometime? Maybe if I start now, I'll become an ace the first year I join volleyball and then I-"

"Hai, Hai, Hikaru." Haruka smirked, pushing her brother's cherubim cheeks together. "I'll consider it, but don't forget the most important step. You have to eat well to gain muscles and grow, but you won't be able to do that if your nee-chan can't start cooking."

"Can we get beef stew with the omurice?" Hiro asked. Haruka wrinkled her nose. Beef stew always smelled so pungent.

She relented when Hikaru gave her a pleading look.

"Only if you cut the onions."

Thus the Lee siblings began their usual routine. Hikaru would try his best to cook with Haruka and Hiro, though he was never allowed near the stove or knives for obvious reasons. While they cooked, Hibiki would play his music before eventually setting the tables. It was the unspoken rule of the house to disallow Hibiki entrance to the kitchen. When it came to cooking, Hiro took the talents, leaving his twin as a walking kitchen disaster.

She was stirring the contents of beef roux while Hikaru watched in a rare lapse of silence. Hiro was cracking eggs and mixing heavy cream in a bowl to the side.

After those blue eyes blinked thrice, she turned to him, knowing the telltale signs of him wanting to say or confess something.

"Something on your mind, Hikaru?" It wasn't about his recent grades. Haruka had checked. Her brother, as usual, did well in school although his grammar work wasn't as good as it could be. He never did more than what was necessary for tasks that held little interest to him.

"Erm…Well… Last week, I talked with Neko ji-san..." He began to sway back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Really, her youngest brother was too cute sometimes.

"Is this about that elementary volleyball club? You want to attend it as an after school program right?" She had seen the posters at the recreational center. Hikaru had his eyes glued to the poster board before she picked him up from his swimming lessons.

"Eh." He blinked in surprise before sighing. "Well yeah, but Nee-san no fair. No telepathy!"

The on running joke between her brothers was that she was a psychic who could read their minds and thus figure out their words or worse, secrets, before they could speak them. She nearly rolled her eyes. It wasn't her fault that they were so blatantly predictable.

"You want to go to that after school program instead of attending swimming? It's a two hour club that goes from Mondays through Thursdays, are you sure?" Not to mention the price. Considering it wasn't the run of the mill neighborhood club, it was understandably a bit costly.

"Yes please! I promise I'll still do good in school." He clasped his hands together.

"Do well, you mean." She corrected lightly. "And getting there?"

"I know the routes. It's only thirty minutes by train and bus. Souta is going too so I'll walk with him!" Souta was their neighbor by a few blocks, and Hibiki's close friend.

"I can pick him up." Hiro added. "The studio I work part time in happens to be five minutes away from the gym the club practices in."

"You really thought this through, hm." She muttered thoughtfully. It wasn't surprising. The boy was a volleyball fanatic. It was odd. None of their family members had a particular love for the sport. Her father preferred to watch E-sport gaming competitions while Hibiki had no interest in sports whatsoever, preferring concerts to games. Hiro was more focused on indie films and cinematography. The twins simply rationalized that it was heaven balancing the world. She was the brainiac, Hibiki was the musician, Hiro was the visual and culinary artist, and with Hikaru they had the aspiring athlete. It was a full package.

"We'll have to speak to your swim teacher. He wanted to put you on the team next month." She sauteed the rice and diced vegetables as she spoke. "What did Nekomata-san say?" She wasn't particularly close with the elderly volleyball coach. Once or twice she said hello when Hikaru introduced her. He seemed to be a pleasant old man with keen eyes.

"Jii-san says it'll be hard work, but if I have the guts and heart, I should do it! I think I have all the organs it takes!"

Hibiki chortled at this, earning a sharp, silencing glare from his sister. Haruka returned her attention to their youngest.

"Alright. I'll let dad know and figure things out by this weekend. But you have to tell your swim coach."

God knows she wanted to avoid speaking with the 20 year old swim teacher when she could.

"Fishy, guppy-faced bastard." Hibiki muttered darkly under his breath. It didn't take a genius to figure out the speedo wearing idiot had a crush on her. If Haruka knew, she didn't show it. He doubted she knew.

"Maybe I can tell him?" Hiro suggested.

"Hikaru is old enough to tell him himself." Haruka refuted calmly, placing the steaming fried rice in their designated molds before preparing the egg and heavy cream mix made by Hikaru with Hiro's help. There were a few eggshell remnants from when he was clumsy with the eggs, but she said nothing, sifting them from the mix as she reapplied oil to the pan and turned the heat low.

"… Onee-chan, you'll be okay right?"

"Eh?" She glanced at Hikaru. He stared at her intently again, worry evident in his eyes. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well…cuz. I won't be home to greet you anymore."

Ah, really her brothers were so sentimental, it was almost too sweet. She chuckled. "On the contrary, I think I'm okay with the peace and quiet. Besides, Siri greets me home."

Hikaru seemed mollified by this while Hibiki rolled his eyes. "He means, maybe you can finally get a life outside of family, nee-san."

"I have a life, mind you, brat." She raised a fine brow at her brother's cheek. Daring him to contradict her.

"Uhuh." Hibiki was unconvinced. "Inside the house, but at school? You never bring friends home-that weird game geek from 1rst year doesn't count, you were teaching him. You're not involved in any clubs or anything. You watch movies BY YOURSELF on NETFLIX or read or do housework on weekends or walk Sirius. Get more involved in school."

"What are you, my life coach?" Haruka felt indignant. "I'll have you know, I am very much involved."

"Doing work for that idiot Iura doesn't count." Hibiki countered with a light sneer. "Join a club or something Nee-san. Like…Judo. It's useful-"

"Yes, let's join a club where I and my 1.5 million yen prosthetic leg get tossed about on a mat." She began the precarious task of shifting the egg mix on the pan. Cooked just enough to hold while being pliant and malleable, the perfect omurice egg topping.

Hibiki ignored her sarcastic comment with a huff while Hiro glanced at her worriedly. "Wait, not Judo. Judo would have too many boys." Hiro was less upfront about his protective tendency with Haruka, but he was still a concerned brother.

"A manager! Nee-chan is great at caring for others!" Hikaru suggested brightly, watching with glee as Haruka placed the perfectly ovular egg lump over a plate of fried rice.

"A _girl's_ team!" Hiro fiercely corrected. "Being manager of a boys team is worse than joining. Perverts fantasizing about their cute manager doing domestic deeds." He shuddered with a venomous expression at the thought.

Haruka cast the anxious twin a bland look and in an even blander tone, retorted. "While I appreciate your concern for my chastity, your plates getting cold."

"Hibi-nii! Let's cut the center!" Hikaru loved to watch the egg mound topping the rice spread when the incision was made at its top. A shallow cut down the middle was all it took for the yellow lump to expand open and blanket the rice.

While the brothers enjoyed watching the little culinary trick, Haruka plated the last of the omurice for her portion while Hiro placed the beef stew on the table. She fought the urge to scrunch her nose when the pungent odor of beef stew struck her senses. It was hard to understand why the boys loved it so much. Perhaps it was because it was beef. They poured generous portions of the beef concoction onto their omurice while she remained content to avoid chunks of meat while pouring its gravy-like contents onto her dish.

"Itadakimasuu~"

The clink of silverware was all that could be heard through the Lee household as each individual focused on their plate. It was all Haruka needed to hear to feel content. There was something about watching the people you love the most enjoy the the things you make for them. Afterwards, Hikaru and Hiro would clean the table while Hibiki washed the dishes, giving her time to retire into her room and go through her personal routine. She took off her prosthetic with a wince as the stump below her left knee throbbed. Even with the silicon cushion and wrappings around her limb, prolonging her time with the prosthetic on made her muscles and skin sore and tender.

Her gaze fell onto the ropy white scar marring the stump's of what was left of her left leg. Four years of seeing the same scar and the same lack on her body, one would think she would have grown to adjust and embrace it. Physically, perhaps she did. She lived her day as normally as she could and did things any person with four limbs would do. She ran, she jumped, and she even kicked. But past the surface of physicality, the scar and lack marring her body bothered her more than she would ever admit.

It would serve as a perpetual reminder of what happened.

 _"I'm sorry."_

 _"Otou-san.. what happened? Outo-san? Papa?"_

 _"Haruka... I'm so sorry."_

 _Haunted, lifeless blue reflected back at her. The color of bruises, the color of bruises, of pain, of sorrow._

 _"I'm sorry."_

 _"No...I should be sorry."_

 _"I HATE YOU."_

Four years… It had been a grueling process of healing but never forgetting.

Blue eyes dulled as a wave of fatigue washed over her. It wasn't a tiredness caused by a day at school. There were types of fatigue, some that would surpass the physical condition and constricted the soul. Her's was a tiredness that wouldn't fade with sleep or with the scar. A melancholic knowledge that she had to accept. A weakness that no matter how much she despised, she would have to live with.

No.…Not a weakness…

 _"They're battle scars." Orange hair glowing like a halo under the sunlight, the small boy grinned at her. "Bad ass battle scars, Haru-nee! Signs that you're brave and cool! A warrior princess!"_

"Battle scars.. right." She sighed, entering into her stretch routine. While she could no longer perform gymnastic maneuvers like she used to, it was a matter of pride in maintaining her flexibility. Regardless of whether her missing limb was a weakness, a reminder, or a brave badge of honor, one thing was certain. Time doesn't always heal everything like the doctors and older people told her they would. If it were true, people wouldn't die from old age. If time truly was a remedy, then they would still have _her_ with them.

Perhaps time just wasn't the true remedy...

"NO FAIR HIRO,I WANTED TO WATCH LALA LAND!" She could hear Hibiki's indignance, it interupted her reverie.

"Go listen to the soundtrack on Youtube. We're watching Kimi no Nawa today." Hiro calmly refuted.

"oooh, the anime had so many pretty colors." She could hear the hop in Hikaru's tone.

"I claim democracy! Put it to a vote. If it ties, we are flipping a coin." Hibiki declared.

Haruka sighed, doing the last of her stretch regime before she hopped to her lone foot. Opening the door, she raised her voice.

"You're outvoted, Hibi."

"TRAITOR! YOU LOVED BRYAN whatshisface."

"Ryan Reynolds, you idiot, and that's RYAN GOSLING." Haruka snapped back.

"THEY'RE LIKE THE SAME."

* * *

And so the story begins. Hope you guys stay around to see how it progresses. Please review!

-Mana


	2. Chapter 2

_There's a difference between living and existing. -from someone who suffered depression._

"She looks so… stony."

Ah, nothing like gossip in the morning. It had died down after freshman year, but occasionally, because people had nothing better to do, they would whisper amongst themselves regarding the enigma that surrounded the "elite" Lee Haruka.

"Lee-san just isn't a morning person." a classmate of hers defended. His friend chuckled and joked.

"She's not a person in general. She's like an android. Never really smiles. Never really laughs. Doesn't do much besides get perfect grades."

"She's only popular among guys cuz of her face." A girl hissed to her friend. "So basic and boring."

"Somebody sounds jealous." The boy jeered.

"Any girl would be if they had her body and looks. Her mom was some American trophy wife. Like those bikini models you see with the wrestlers?"

What the? That one was new. Bikini clad trophy wife… If the twins were here, Hiro would simply sigh while Hibiki would, without a doubt, pummel them physically and verbally.

"Well, her dad is rich, that would make sense. He's some suave socialite."

No, her father was a highly intellectual computer nerd who was about as suave as a piece of unmatched LEGO brick. They were a well off family though, with the Lee family coming from old and new money. Her father's siblings were the businessmen type, being the shareholders of a hardware and software company that had overseas facilities.

The whispers were right about one thing. She wasn't a morning person. Especially without her morning tea. The fresh brew she had in her thermos remained forgotten at home in her rush to get things ready and wake her brothers up in time. She grimaced at the memory of Hiro sleeping in the bathroom, away from her unseeing eyes. She had Hibiki shove him into the bathtub for a cold shower.

That had been the only highlight of her day-the sight of her bratty brother yowling like a angry cat under the cold water, and considering how things always were at school, it would be the only highlight of her day. It was dull. School was dull. Once her foot entered the school grounds, it was depressingly repetitive and dull, and until the bell rang and she stepped off the grounds, it was still depressingly repetitive and dull.

Maybe her brothers were right. Perhaps she needed to be immersed in some sort of school activity. Life at school was slowly festering from dullness to something along the lines of depression.

Everyone had hoped that her life would improve with the move from Miyagi to Tokyo. A new environment would provide a fresh start. Haruka never complained about the move, but to say she acclimated well into the city life of Tokyo was difficult to admit. Their family moved through so many cities in various prefectures, from Hyogo, to Kyoto, Miyagi, and finally Tokyo. It had been exhausting.

And when the accident happened, it only became tougher. She had been isolated from a school's social environment enough as it is with the transfers because of her personal life and the homeschooling after the accident that took away a part of her left limb.

It made her feel so detached from everything, to the point that when she entered Nekoma high school her freshman year, she found herself isolated and shy because what was the point? What was the point of it all? What was the logic and efficiency of investing so much time into high school when three years later, they would all split ways?

The schools were all the same. There were people who whispered behind your back, people who bullied others, people who lived as though school was their universe. She lived through freshman year with the aching mentality of apathy and did what she needed to do when it was required of her. Occasionally there was a pang of loneliness here and there. Whenever she saw a group of friends look sincerely content in one another's presence, sharing a bento together, or when her brothers spoke of their school lives with excitement and interest, elaborating on the friends they made; loneliness would manifest in a tight hold on her chest. The sensation was similar to the feeling of phantom pain from a lost limb.

Amputees suffered from occasional bouts of pain at differing levels where their lost limb used to be. It was defined as a psychosomatic sensation or a side effect of the brain and the nerves still believing that the limb was there. The pain could come in unpredictable moments but eventually it would go away. It was bearable enough for the amputee to live with. In some cases, the brain would grow fully accustomed to the amputation and the phantom pain would become a thing of memory.

While it was impossible to fully connect human relationships to something more anatomical, Haruka wondered if loneliness was something she could acclimate to? It wouldn't be perpetual. She had her brothers and a few people throughout her life who she held dear. Yet, despite her musing, the subtle pain of the thought was an undeniable answer.

Haruka recoiled from her reverie. It was unlike her to be so broody about trivial matters. Her life was good. It was better than most. There was little need to be so melancholic about it.

 _My period must be coming soon. I'm getting sentimental_.

Besides, there were things that required her attention; for now there was a literature quiz in 20 minutes that needed reviewing. She plugged in her earphones and pulled out her book from her desk as the classical piano melody drowned out the voices around her.

/

/

Kai Nobuyuki would have been a better candidate. He was kind, polite, and there was something about his calm disposition that made people more agreeable around him. And as a third year, maybe she would be more open to having a senpai requesting her service. He on the other hand was borderline antisocial if it weren't for Kuroo and the team.

Furthmore, it's been months since Kenma had a thorough conversation with Lee Haruka, but the team acted as though he was their only hope.

 _What am I even going to say?_

He sighed, holding his game console tightly in his grasp, the only source of comfort for his anxiety. Human interaction was not his forte. Conversations with girls were especially painful. He hardly even conversed with his teammates, Kuroo being the exception.

Scrummaging his mind for whatever scarce bit of courage remained, he approached a student waiting outside the door of the college prep class. Students in this section of school were advanced, no doubt Haruka would be here.

"… Excuse me… Is Lee Haruka in your class?" The girl regarded him with squinting eyes, having difficulty hearing the soft-spoken setter.

"Lee Haruka." He repeated, mentally cursing himself. He must sound so stupid.

"Ah, Lee-san…She's in class 5." The girl answered, smiling at him with what seemed to be a pitying expression in her eyes. Did he really seem that pathetic?

"Thank you." Nodding, he departed, leaving the girl sighing before nudging her friend.

"Another guy coming for Haruka."

"I wonder if this one will cry."

He spotted her through the window of the class. Strawberry blonde hair held in a low, neat bun, eyes on a paperback book, earphones in, and legs crossed, she looked like a loner at her desk near the outside windows. A contrasting portrait with her classmates who were grouped in their cliques, smiling, laughing, and talking.

But she appeared content nonetheless. Not unlike how he was with his console when the team didn't force him out of his shell.

It would be weird to intrude into her class. Eyes would be on him, and the thought of garnering all that unnecessary attention made his stomach curl. So he opted for an indirect approach.

"Sorry to bother you." He turned his attention to a short, bespectacled boy near the doorway. "I need to speak to Lee Haruka, she's your classmate?"

"Er yeah." The boy seemed nervous. "But if you're going to confess or something, it might be better to do it after 12. Lee-san isn't the nicest person in the morning."

What? Confess? Kenma quirked a puzzled brow which gave off a glaring impression. The boy flinched as Kenma regarded him questionably.

"Uh… I see." the monotony of his voice remained. "I'm here for something else actually."

"Oh. Ok, one sec." The boy went into class.

Kenma watched as the boy hesitated, shuffling on his feet a few paces away from Haruka. But when he approached close enough, Haruka pinned him with her gaze as though she had some sixth sense for someone approaching. She expressed nothing as she pulled out her earphones to listen to her classmate. A few blinks and blue met yellow.

Kenma didn't know whether he was supposed to wave or bow. Involuntarily, he looked away. The paleness of her iris made her pupils stand out like needles.

Within a few graceful strides, she met him out of class. How she could move in that manner always weirded him out, especially when he discovered she was missing a foot and ankle.

"Kenma-san. How may I help you?"

Her tone had always been formal, even after a month of being his tutor. It wasn't unkind, but it always put her at a distance.

"Eto… I was wondering." _Look at her face, Kenma, cmon._

Kenma could hear Kuroo's voice inside his head. He tried his best but dammit, those eyes made him nervous. She waited patiently, though he could see her fingers drifting to her watch.

Best not to waist her time.

"Would you be interested in being our manager?" Was what he was supposed to say, but his mumbling twisted his tongue and the statement was presented as:

"W-yoube intrstedibein.. our manager?"

"?" She tilted her head, blinking in befuddlement. Was that German?

Ugh, why him. Kenma almost sighed, giving himself a moment to collect his bearings. He was calmer than this.

"Manager…Er. Volleyball manager."

He could hear imaginary Kuroo's sigh.

There was a pregnant pause. Haruka regarded him blankly. Whatever was going through her mind was a mystery, and Kenma just wanted to sink into the floor and play his console game. Game bosses were so much easier to deal with. Button pressing and a few combos with some strategy made it easy, and optional dialogue was listed for you.

"… You should get to class, Kenma-san."

Her response was almost anticlimactic. Now it was Kenma's turn to blink in confusion.

Haruka regarded him with a distant look. "Your class is on the opposite end, isn't it? You'll be late at this rate, and we both know you hate running." If he was surprised she remembered, he didn't show it. It was Kenma, and she understood his nature well enough at this rate.

That didn't mean he didn't disappoint her. She had hoped he would have come in to say hello after a long time. They were well acquainted enough last year for her to consider him something along the lines of a friend and have dinner at her house. Granted they only met because he was failing English, and her homeroom teacher made a personal request.

She couldn't resist the sigh that escaped her nose. It wasn't something she would admit outright, but he made her sad. People didn't approach her unless they needed something from her. How depressing.

Kenma looked panicked now. It was clear he did something wrong. Haruka looked… somber. More somber than usual.

"I…Er…If-"

"Kozume-san, we can discuss this later. But for now, I'd rather you get to class on time. Thank you for coming here." She gave him a flat, polite smile, bowed and left him standing at the door. He watched her return to her desk, ignoring the curious eyes on her.

It took him a second to find his feet. When he did, he quickly departed. He didn't want questioning eyes to target him. But as he trudged to class, his footsteps felt weighted, and a heavier burden pressed against his chest. Kenma had the feeling he hadn't been considerate of Haruka.

 _She called me Kozume-san._

It felt like a demotion.

Manager huh. Maybe God and His angels were playing games with her. Right after her brothers practically cornered her into seeking some after school activity, Kenma comes to her classroom and asks her to be the volleyball manager.

Her initial disappointment with Kenma quickly perished with the practical thought of the position. It hadn't been fair of her to place that standard of social expectation on anyone, especially Kenma. She would apologize for her brusqueness later.

The manager position seemed practical. With the status and responsibility of club management, she could be exempted from participating in the sports festival. The task of managing a sports team generally consisted of handiwork and overseeing, something she mastered with raising three boys.

Speaking of her brothers, being the manager of a boy's volleyball team would, without a doubt, piss off Hibiki after his blatant disapproval of her being in any testosterone filled environment. The sadistic side of her couldn't help but mentally relish that possibility.

Her mental analysis had been quick, and Lee Haruka made up her mind to see Kenma briefly after school.

When class started, the teacher no longer called on her for English, no doubt understanding that she would answer correctly 99.9% of the time. However, when it came to History and Government, she had to focus. Memorizing things that already happened was not in her niche.

As soon as they were dismissed, Haruka packed her belongings and departed. Best to get a head start before Iura Shu came to her room again.

 _Speak of the devil._

"Lee-san! Thank goodness, I was hoping to catch you in time to invite you to dinner."

"Iura-san. I have a previous appointment arranged."

"Eh?" Iura Shu grinned. "With who?"

"Kozume Kenma-san. I believe he's in your class." She increased her pace to a brisk walk, determined not to give the boy her full attention. But he was persistent.

Shu nearly tripped over his footing. "Eh? Kenma? The quiet gloomy kid with pudding hair? What, are you guys dating?" He spoke in a rush, sounding borderline insulted at the possibility. It almost earned him a scowl from the aloof valedictorian.

"Don't be assumptions, Iura-san. It's unbecoming of you." She replied blandly. Turning the corner of the hall, she descended down the stairs. Shu's gaze followed her, dulled in discouragement.

"It's Shu." He muttered.

/

/

/

It felt as though class would run forever, but eventually they were dismissed. Finally. At least volleyball was tolerable. There was something about sitting endlessly in class while being forced to listen to a teacher's babble that made it an abysmal chore.

Kenma hesitated coming into the gym. Once he entered, eyes would be on him, and he knew what would be asked and who would ask it.

"Oh, Kenma, how did it go?" Yaku stopped in the midst of his stretch, eyes hopeful.

Kenma said and expressed nothing, but his sunken shoulders said enough. There was a brief wave of disappointment throughout the team until their captain intervened.

"Ah well, that's that." Kuroo shrugged.

"That's what?" Their senior coach, Nekomata Yasufumi came into view along with his younger counterpart, Manabu Naoi. The catlike old man turned his smiling face inquisitively to Kenma.

"We were looking for a manager. Kenma tried asking someone in his year." Yaku explained, squatting to stretch his quads and ankles.

"Oh? Who?"

"Lee Haruka." Kenma confessed.

"Oh, Haruka-chan huh?" Nekomata blinked, crossing his arms.

"Eh? you know Haruka, coach?"

"I'm better acquainted with her little brother, Hikaru-chan. Bright young lad. Has solid potential in becoming a good player."

Nekomata strode to the side and grabbed the foldable chair leaning against the wall, only for Manabu to take the burden from his wrinkled grasp.

The senior man scowled, and the younger coach looked sheepish.

"Your wife called, she was worried about your wrist joint." He confessed, earning scoff from Nekomata.

"Nosy woman." He muttered, little bite in his words before raising his voice. "Warm up in 5! Get a partner and start the rotation!"

Majority of the team knew the drill. Those that were still new and learning were partnered with the more experienced members. The short, tan haired libero 3rd year made it his duty to teach the team's gangly half Russian spaz the ropes.

"Oi! Lev, you're with me!"

"But I wanna work on spikes." Green eyes were imploring and crestfallen, but Yaku was firm against the sympathy fishing act.

"You need to work on serves."

"But senpai, you're so short. My serves might go over your he-"

"Listen to your senpai and work on your crappy serves." Yaku snapped, jaws clenched in anger. Honestly, this gangly brat was testing his patience. It was like the kohai's purpose on the team was to rile him up. It took effort to refrain from kicking him more than thrice each practice.

"Hai..." Lev sulked, following the third year obediently to an open spot near the exit.

While the boys began practicing their sets, the coaches looked on, eyes watchful for bad habits or signs of improvement.

"A manager would be nice. I feel bad assigning one of the first years to wash the towels or refill the cooler." Manabu commented.

"Nonsense. The manual work builds character." Nekomata chuckled. "But I do understand what you mean." A good manager did wonders for a team. People could disregard them, and the ignorant ones would simply think of them as maids, but those who did so knew nothing of what made a strong team.

The old man smiled thoughtfully. "It's like the team's chant."

 _We are the body's blood...flow smoothly and circulate oxygen so the brain functions normally_

"In the analogy, the ideal manager would act as white blood cells. Reliable white blood cells only serve to make the body stronger and function better."

"That's poetic, sir." Manabu remarked before his attention turned to the opening door. "Speaking of managers and white blood cells, is that the girl Kenma was trying to recruit?"

Coach Nekomata followed his line of sight to the girl who was undoubtedly Hikaru's elder sister, with her eyes and fair features. But the resemblance faded there. His elder sister clearly had a grimmer disposition than the happy-go-lucky child. She carried herself with a firm air, clearly a responsible girl who spends her time taking care of her brothers. Yet she still seemed shy though, despite the assuring aura Nekomata could gauge from her. She shifted her gaze back and forth, as though she was torn with hoping to enter unnoticed or to announce her intrusion. Stepping forward, Lee Haruka turned to keep the door from closing with a slam.

Unfortunately for her, that motion of attentiveness costed her sight on the impending object shooting her way… At least until it was too late.

/

/

 **Moments before...**

"Yaku-senpai, I wanna work on spikes." Haiba Lev whined. He lifted the volleyball for an overhead serve.

"It's been three minutes, idiot. Suck it up and do it right." Yaku smoothly received the incoming ball.

Pouting, Lev huffed. "Meanie."

If Yaku heard the boy, he didn't respond as his received returned the ball to Lev's spidery hands.

"Give the serve a bit more power. You don't want the other team to receive it so easily."

Lev spun the ball in his hands and gave it a quick look over with a pensive gaze. A strong serve. A serve that their solid libero would have a hard time to receive.

He then tossed the ball high in the air, higher than it would normally go for an overhead serve.

Yaku scowled. Was the kid messing around? "A little high there Le-"

But as the ball was coming down, Lev gained momentum with a solid number of strides before he sprung upward in a powerful leap. Torso leaning a bit back, right arm coiled behind his shoulder like a spring powered rifle, Haiba Lev swung his arm forth for a whip like strike just as the ball came into view.

Usually, his accuracy for a stunt like this was more of a miss than hit, but to both his and Yaku's surprise, his palm met its target.

It was exhilarating. The high leap, the stinging but oh so satisfying sensation of his hand making contact with the ball, this was but a taste of what it would feel like being an "ace" of a team. Lev mentally whooped at his luck as he watched the ball dart move like a bullet, swishing past Yaku's head.

And smack a girl's forehead at full force.

...

 **THWACK.**

...

It was painful. So painful that Haruka swore she saw stars. It wasn't solely because of the ball. The projectile had only been a catalyst of the blaring sensation that came with a minor concussion. If it had been just the ball, she would have been fine, perhaps with a bruised forehead. But the force of the stupid projectile promptly knocked her back hard enough for the rear of her skull to impact the hard, stainless steel door from which she came through.

...And to think she wanted to be polite in using the backdoor as to keep their practice uninterrupted. Good intentions repaid with a ball to the face and a head injury. If Kharma was real, it was a true bitch.

The impact had been jarring enough that everything happening after became muddled. She heard shouts, male voices yelling over one another, very unhelpful to her sensitive head.

"Oh shit."

"THE HELL, LEV? I SAID _SERVE_ NOT A FUCKING SPIKE YOU IDIOT!"

"I was trying for a spike-serve!"

"Someone get some ice and get a bundle of towels for a pillow! I think she needs to rest her head."

"Good job stupid, your stunt just killed our future manager."

"That stunt wouldn't even be able to stay in the lines in a real game!"

"…It looked cool though...?"

"COOL? UGH, I CAN'T EVEN." There was the resounding sound of a thud.

"OW! YAKU-SENPAI-"

"SHUT UP. DO SOMETHING SMART FOR ONCE AND GET THE POOR GIRL SOME ICE."

With her head cradled in her arms, sure enough, her hands felt a throbbing bump near the posterior region of her head. And while her vision was too impaired with spots and colors for her open her eyes clearly, the body heat suffocating her breathing space indicated there were several boys crowding around her.

"Damn, that looked like it hurt."

"Should've come in through the front door."

"Kenma, did you know she was coming."

"...No."

"Does this mean she's going to be Nekoma volleyball team's manager?"

"After this? Is that really what you can think about?"

"She's not bleeding right?"

She couldn't hold back the venom in her voice. "No, but she's getting pissed off."

Finally, the spots were fading. Haruka opened her eyes tentatively and sure enough, she had the scrutiny of several heads heads in all shapes, heights, and sizes. They flinched at her frosty glare, some looking more relieved than wary as they backed away, giving her air.

"Lee-san, we're so sorry." A short boy with tanned hair, spiky hair came forward with an outstretched hand. "One of our first years was being a careless idiot."

After a moment of hesitation, a hand grasped his own. Yaku fought the urge to blush. Her hands were soft and slender... but really cold.

"It's fine. Accidents can happen." She winced as the back of her head gave another painful throb. Really, couldn't her head have landed on her bun to soften the blow? "This better not happen often." She growled, more to herself, but they heard her nonetheless.

Later on, Nekomata Jiisan would joke that she cursed herself that first day by saying those words, but luckily, Haruka was a fast learner who didn't need to be taught twice to be on guard. (albeit she would still have a number of notorious incidents where the ball just loved her).

"The last time? So this means that you'll consider joining us?" A dark skinned boy bearing a shaved head asked. His voice was calm and thoughtful, clearly a more mature individual.

Haruka avoided the hopeful gleam in the eyes of the mow-hawk crowned boy. If she recalled correctly, he was Yamamoto. "Considering being the emphasized word." She sighed, finding her footing.

Her balance was still disoriented, confirming that she did have a minor concussion… But at least there was no open wound. Nothing some ice, aspirin, and sleep could fix later at home.

"Here, let me help you." It was the bed haired captain again.

"It's fine." She took a wobbly step towards the benches, determined to make it there on her own, but the third year ignored her words and held her waist. It earned him what could only be described as the "yuki-onna" glare. At least the other team members had the decency to give her space-or maybe it was the cold permeating around her. But Testuro Kuroo, to her annoyance, simply held her firm and forced her to lean to him for support.

Though it was a matter of pride that she never admit it, the support had been helpful. Having one actual leg made gaining her bearings more troublesome than the average two legged person. Still, Haruka did her best to maintain her stride, however unsteady it was. The last thing she wanted in her introduction as a potential manager was their knowing of her body's handicapped condition. She will never be the object of pity or concern if she could be help it.

She was a bit on the willowy end, he noticed when he felt her waist- far slimmer than what the uniform gave credit for. He could feel the hard ridge of ribbing underneath the firm skin. Not just willowy, but a bit skinny, almost bird-like with how her ankles and wrists were so dainty.

His grasp did not last long though. As soon as she was withing a stride of the benches, she all but pried his arm open with a quick but painful pinch to his forearm and a brief but fierce glare. The message was clear. She wasn't a touchy person nor was she someone that could be coddled easily.

She had bark and bite. He had the feeling the girl would do just fine as their manager.

The ice came as soon as she sat down, given to her by the culprit for her concussion. The boy appeared genuinely remorseful as he tentatively handed her the ice pack.

"I'm so sorry." The gangly spiker bowed towards her so lowly, she was half impressed and half concerned his head would hit the floor.

Gingerly placing the ice on her head, Haruka raised her free hand in an appeasing gesture.

"No, it's fine. I thought Kozume-san would mention my appearance. I should have made my entrance clear." She felt her forehead for bruising. Heat still radiated off the skin from the impact but it was a superficial bruise. She would probably have to apply some foundation on the spot to keep it from being an eyesore.

"I didn't think you would come." Kenma confessed softly, nervous as he avoided her gaze.

Haruka blinked, confused now. "I never _rejected_ your offer. Although, I have to apologize for dismissing you so suddenly. Sorry, Kozume-san." She tried to sound sincere as she felt, but the shy setter didn't seem satisfied.

He looked pensive as he stared at anything but her, while his shoulders still remained in their sunken position. Body language made up a predominant portion of human communication, and for Kozume Kenma who was naturally nonverbal, it was even more-so. Something was bothering him, but she did not know what.

"Alright alright." An aged voice intervened the gathering before the team could eagerly begin questioning or greeting their potential manager. "Get back to practice, all of you, before you scare her off from her consideration."

Fulfilling his duties as captain, Kuroo raised his voice. "Alright guys. Let's go through drills!" Coach Manabu blew into his whistle, dispersing the reluctant crowd back into routine, all members except for two remained. The captain and the third year libero glanced at each other.

"Er, does Lee-san need to be taken to the infirmary?" Yaku asked just as Kuroo opened his mouth, thinking along the same lines.

Coach Nekomata glanced at the seated girl, patiently awaiting her input as she readjusted her icepack. She grimaced at the throbbing headache. The hair tie tugging at her roots did not help with the discomfort. She placed the ice pack to the side and began to tend to her up-do.

"The infirmary won't be necessary, but I would like an overview of what the team might need. Just give me a minute." Her finger found the elastic and with a gentle tug, she undid the bundle and freed her hair from its bun. The relief was instantaneous, causing her to sigh with content as her hair began unraveling down her back in a wavy mane.

In time, Yaku would later poke and prod fun that it was at that moment Kuroo Testuro fell for Lee Haruka. With the way her hair fell loose and framed her fair face, the vision seemed to slow time to a near halt. A breath-taking moment that had the normally cool and collected captain dazed and starstruck as though he was the one who got hit with a volleyball spiked to his face.

Whether or not that was the accurate truth remained uncertain, as Kuroo Testuro would simply wear his Cheshire grin at those moments and leave things unanswered. But in all of that mystery and poking-fun, there was one thing Morisuke Yaku knew for certain. The middle blocker always had a thing for long haired girls, but falling in love with this particular long haired girl…That was a whole different thing.

/

/

To Yaku's glee and Testuro's unseen irritation, Nekomata volunteered Yaku to show Haruka the ropes after she gained her bearings well enough. Whether the concussion seriously debiliated her was unclear. Aside from a brief grimace, Haruka did not appear to show much prolonged discomfort. Her tolerance for pain must be high. Either that, or the girl was made of tougher stuff than she appeared. They all heard the resonating sound of the ball striking her head, and her head banging against the door.

Their walk would've been a quiet one if it weren't for Yaku. Haruka didn't seem to be much for small talk, as her responses to his attempts were short and concise. The lapses in silence was almost discomforting. Yaku would've thought the girl was not paying attention if it weren't for her scribbling notes onto a leatherbound planner.

 _So she was organized. That was a great sign._

"Most of our things are down the hall to the left." He instructed, walking beside the silent girl. There was a certain air about her that carried a calm grace, mysterious in some ways. A confidence that belied her age. How girls could walk gracefully was a mystery to the libero.

Girls seriously must be some magical species or something. He thought idly as they turned left.

"The storage room should have most of the cleaning equipment and the first aid box." He opened the door of the room and gestured at its contents, cringing inwardly as mops fell and cleaning solutions rolled about. Blue eyes darted about the contents, clearly unimpressed.

"Er…we sort of pushed back on tidying the place."

"I see." How ironic but typically boyish, Haruka thought to herself.

To the libero's surprise, she stepped into the fray and switched the lights on. Her scrutiny was sharp and with her journal and pen hand in hand, she began writing relentlessly. He watched, with some fascination, as the second year perused through the inventory of the storage room. She wasn't slow in her observation yet judging from her rapid writing, she wasn't half hearted in her perusal.

Haruka tucked her planner in her arm and reached for the first aid kit, nose twitching in annoyance at the subtle layer of dust meeting the tip of her fingers. How unsanitary. There was dust lacking the handle, indicating it was used commonly. That made sense. A movement heavy sport that involves diving for the ball would without a doubt cause injuries and thus a need for a first aid kit. She opened the contents, and her twitch transitioned to her eye as she saw the disorganized contents. Some of the pills and balms were expired as well.

"Lee-san?" Yaku almost hesitated in calling her. There was something…intense in the way she went about with her task, and she wasn't even the manager yet.

She stepped out of the room, brushing the sleeve of her uniform before reviewing her notes. "May we move on?"

"Uh… Hai.."

 _So intense… She's like a queen. Or a general._

He opened the door to the next room, moving to the side, this time anticipating her immediate entrance and analysis.

"The laundry room. We recently got a dryer, making things a lot easier. But in case that doesn't do it for you, there are drying racks on the side."

Haruka gave a nod, indicating she was listening as she looked over the items. A generic powdered detergent brand with a scoop, no dryer ball or fabric softener, or drying sheets. The dryer was not an industrial sized dryer but it was large enough for the entire load. The mode selection was generic. The same was said for the washer. It was minimum, but at least they had the basics. At least the laundry room was kept clean and mildew free.

What was she writing down? He wished he could lean over to see, but Haruka did not seem like the person who would be alright with her space being invaded. Her notes were too small to read, yet they looked concise and organized. There was more detail on there than one would think a person would write about a laundry room.

When he took her to the volleyball equipment, he half expected her to examine the quality of each volleyball. But Haruka only listened, while eying the water coolers, nodding once or twice in affirmation as he explained where and when things were.

"Coach has a copy of the keys for different rooms. The drinkable water fountain is outside the back and around the corner. You can wheel the coolers in with the cart, but if it's heavy just call one of us up and we'll be glad to help." He imagined it would be difficult with her slender arms to lift the large water coolers.

"Is there a time table of the practice schedule?" She asked, curling a stray hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, I can give you a copy."

"Could I get it by email in doc format?"

"Er, I think so." Yaku didn't have a doc file. He could just make one and email it to her, but the girl's pale eyes flickered once to his face before she returned to her notes, remarking in the same plain manner.

"Nevermind, I'll just take a picture if you have a hard-copy."

"Oh, okay." It was awkward. There was so much propriety in how she interacted with him and everyone else. "Well… I'm Morisuke Yaku by the way, I play the libero."

"Ah, then you must be good at receiving."

Yaku smirked. "Best on the team. You know volleyball?"

"My youngest brother obsesses over it." She admitted, warmth thawing her eyes. "So I have a general understanding."

"He has good taste. Do you do any sports."

"I used to. Not in a school team."

"An after school thing then?" Maybe she was a ballerina. She had that look to her.

"Rhythmic gymnastics and some long distance running, but an injury stopped me a while back. Afterward, I never really got back into it."

There were always those who persevered despite the circumstances a crippling injury would make against them. Inspirational stories of athletes who lost limbs or one of their senses still continuing their sport. She wasn't one of them. Maybe she just didn't love those sports enough to continue after her recovery.

She started the feminine acrobatic activity to please the bodily expectations of her mother, who wanted her daughter to bear the ideal body. Running had been something done to compliment that expectation, and it had scholarship or recruitment potential for overseas schools.

That did not mean she had been completely numb about them. A hobby or a passion can start with a single seed of curiosity. She had grown to like the flexibility blessed by gymnastics. You had the greater freedom to express your appreciation for a musical score through the movement of every part of your body from the tip of your fingers and head down to your very toes. And with running... it had been so liberating, therapeutic even. The palpitating heart, the burning limbs, the wind resistance combing her body, all the while the world just passes by you. The efforts of reaching a finish line regardless of placing first or last in a marathon rewarded with a sense of accomplishment.

She had liked those things well enough to mourn for them after her accident, but the liking hadn't been strong enough to continue the pursual especially when responsibilities required her to sacrifice time.

If only she had more time…Or maybe she needed more motivation. Nevertheless, it wasn't something on her to-do list in present time.

"...Was it a leg injury? Those can be a real pain to deal with." Yaku's voice pulled her from her musings.

For a brief moment, she gave him a flat smile.

"…Something like that." Her left leg's stump tingled.

Thankfully, Morisuke Yaku did not pry as he became distracted by the next room. "Ah, this is the boy's locker room. Er..." A blush rose to his cheeks. "Not that you'll be going in here often (or ever). The girl's locker room is at the end of the hall. Gimme a sec-" He went inside the locker room, leaving Haruka waiting. She gently prodded her head, feeling the heat radiate from the bump.

She could feel the headache coming again. Maybe it was best to have Hiro cook this time around.

Yaku came out with a folded piece of paper just as Haruka finished texting her brother.

"Here's a hard-copy!" He handed her the worn sheet and watched as she unfolded it and read through the contents.

"Saturday and Sunday practice is optional?"

"On off season days, the coaches sometimes don't come out." He then donned a thoughtful look. "Kuroo usually schedules a practice game or maybe a run. I don't think you have to come on those days."

"I see." Haruka wrote in her notebook, glancing at the hard-copy schedule. There was a camp scheduled during May 3rd until the 5th during the holidays, in a few weeks time. It would be best to run some logistics with the coach and ask some of her questions on the boys: allergies, preferences, noteworthy medical issues, managerial budget for maintenance if there was one. Morisuke-san might be daunted if she were to pour her inquiries onto him when it was only her first day. Hibiki would berate her that she could come off like some taskmaster or machine..

 _"Nee-san. If you're going to join a club, don't do that weird algorithm thing you do."_

 _"What algorithm thing." She frowned, setting the book down to regard him dryly. "I wasn't even aware you knew the term, considering how low your math and science grades are right now."_

 _"Taskmaster... more like sassmaster, throwing all that shade." Hiro chuckled, clicking through his food photo gallery on his blog._

 _"Shut up, Hiro." His twin threw him an acidic look before continuing. "I mean you mentally dissecting, analyzing, and organizing stuff like a computer."_

 _She scoffed, refusing to acknowledge his statement with a response, but Hiro did. He always did._

 _"She's just ahead of the game, Hibikun. This is why you never beat her in card games or board games or games period. Knowledge is power." He put on his best 'evil Russian' voice in the phrase._

 _Hibiki rolled his eyes. "So is being seen as normal."_

 _"Being normal is…mundane! ." Hikaru exclaimed. "M-O-N-D-A-I-N. It's a simonim."_

 _"It's m-u-n-d-a-n-e, and they're called synonyms, sweety, but good try." She corrected gently before returning to her reading._

Being normal was indeed mundane, but at least making an effort to fit in wouldn't hurt.

Returning to the hard-copy, she took a quick picture of the schedule before handing the piece back to the libero. "May I speak with one of the coaches? You should get back to practice. I don't want to keep you from it any longer, Morisuke-senpai."

Senpai. The honorific felt so gratifying, Yaku couldn't help but feel flustered. "Don't mind!" He grinned, leading her back towards the main gym. "I hope you stay! Please let me know if you need anything."

Nodding her head in thanks, there was another lapse of silence between them as they walked back towards the gym.

"Eto..." Yaku's eyes darted towards the girl arm's length away by his side. Seeing her side profile, he couldn't help but notice. Her eye lashes were long and there was a fine angle to her features that had a distinctively European flare. She had to have come from a multicultural family. Her surname and her appearance indicated that much, but as far as what the second years on their team knew, they came across very little personal detail on the girl.

"So I heard your mother is American."

"Did you also hear she was some trophy wife bikini model?" There was a colder tenor to the monotony of her response.

The sudden flare of ill temper nearly made Yaku freeze.

"Eh?"

"I have ears. I'm not deaf to gossip despite doing my best to turn away from it." She deadpanned, returning to her blank expression. Her stride stopped abruptly and Haruka turned her glacial eyes to the libero. For a girl with a near-soulless expression, her eyes seemed to pierce into his very soul. They held him still, framed in a large yet lidded gaze accented by those long lashes. It was a gaze that was fortified and made unreadable by calm.

And yet, it also looked tired. Old even.

Her clipped voice broke his thoughts. "Technically, she was Ukranian. But she immigrated to America to pursue fashion when she became sixteen. My father is a ethnically a Korean man. Thus my surname is Lee."

"Oh… Uh." She was still staring at him. He couldn't tell if it was to gage his reaction or wait for his response.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

His apology eased some of the tension in her body, and to his relief, Haruka looked away.

"...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come off that way, and I shouldn't have spoken to you in such a rude manner, Morisuke-senpai."

It was odd. One moment the honorifics would make him feel warm and proud, now it just felt…cold, like it was used to build a steel wall.

 _If words could play volleyball, this girl would be the greatest middle blocker._

"You would think after living here for years, I would grow accustomed to the assumptions made about me." She spoke in a low voice, more to herself than to him. "Or at least people would be accustomed to me."

 _Ah…She might have been bullied._ Sympathy swelled up within Yaku. Discrimination was a cruel but real thing. Their wing spiker, Nobuyuki Kai, had his fair share of being teased for his darker skin tone and full lips (he was Japanese to the core though). Even with Lev being the way he is, more proud than insecure, Yaku would still find people whispering his way. Whether they were saying good or bad things, the whispering had a way of getting to you if you didn't like attention. Lee Haruka didn't seem like the time to seek attention like Lev did.

So he said the one comfort he knew would be a guaranteed thing.

"I think the team will in no time."

She blinked.

"They're like a bunch of cats. With new things, they'll be curious at first but after a few days, cats act like they own you."

Haruka's brow quirked. Was that supposed to be a comfort?

Realizing his mistake, Yaku quickly backtracked. "Ah, what I mean is that they'll warm up to you in no time. They won't actually act like you're their property!" _Well.. Kuroo might._

"…I.. See."

"Ugh, this is why I like cutting to the chase." He sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that you're a great person, Haruka-san. (I hope you don't mind me calling you that). We've only hung out for a few minutes, and I already see that you're someone who is ready to work hard and do her best. The team will see that, and they'll respect you.…and they'll probably adore the heck out of you, because let's face it." Yaku grinned. "You're pretty."

"Oh...Uh." It wasn't the first time she received this sort of comment. But the way Morisuke Yaku said it as though it were a matter of fact made her feel a rare rush of heat sweep through her face.

 _So she can blush. Cute._

Yaku had to stifle the urge to pat her hair. He had the feeling with her dignified manners, she wasn't one to appreciate that sort of gesture. So he watched with concealed amusement as she recollected herself, somehow calming the pink tinting her cheeks and ears to return to her veins, leaving her face in its usual pale complexion.

When they returned, Yaku gave her a departing wave before joining the team for receives, leaving her to do her intended task of speaking to the Coach. But as she watched the libero depart, her attention fell towards the team.

The gym resonated with a symphony of sounds and sights. Calls, exclamations, commands, short words and slaps of approval halfway through movement; minor gestures and brief verbal exchanges while they worked in harmony with one another. It spoke volumes of their ability to function as a team. But what impressed Haruka that day, the thing that she would later confess was the turning point of whether or not she would fully commit herself for the rest of her time in Nekoma, was the intensity of it all.

The joy, the thrill, and the utter focus etched on some of their faces. It was diverse. Some of them were far more zealous than others, but those who lacked the zeal or utter passion with the sport had a sharpness with which they responded and moved. It was…fascinating. A unique combination of characters with different sets of qualities and talents coming together to function as one. Not unlike how the human body would function.

Years from now, Hibiki would later acredit (blame, more accurately) her time as manager of Nekoma boy's volleyball team for her career choice.

"Coach Manabu, I would like to ask a few questions and fill in some gaps." She approached the younger coach after her brief observation.

"Sure thing." The strong jawed man watched with mild interest as she opened her leather bound journal.

"Does anyone on the team have any allergies or food aversions?"

"Ah, no, not really. These boys typically will eat anything edible they can get their hands on. We just need to make sure it's somewhat nutritious." They really were a pack of hungry lions after a hard day of practice or a long game.

Pen moving swiftly on paper, she continued her questions.

"Is there a budget for minor expenses? For muscle creams,food, bandages, tape, and whatnot?"

"Ah, yeah. Though it's not much." Manabu admitted sheepishly. "We're a little short on funds this year but we're hoping a fundraiser during the school festival will help with that."

"I see." _Ideas for fundraiser… noted._ "Morisuke-senpai mentioned you have an extra set of keys."

"Yeah! Made an extra set of copies just in case I lose the first." He pulled out a small ring of keys and smiled kindly. "Does this mean you'll join the team as a manager?"

"Hai." She gave them a deep bow. "Please take care of me. I'll try my best."

"Great!" Nekomata exclaimed, a satisfied grin on his face. The old coach reminded her of the chubby grey Scottish fold cat owned by her neighbor. "I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow after school. But today, rest your head. You took a hard hit."

"Thank you, coach." She intended to give them one last bow before she departed, but the senior coach stopped her halfway.

"Hold on for a moment. Let's formally introduce you to the team!"

"Uh sir, there is no need. I don't want to interrupt practice-" She felt a pool of dread build in her gut.

"Nonsense! Manabu, call them in!"

 _Dammit_. Haruka mentally cringed while Manabu did as he ordered. He blew his whistle in a short, concise huff, and like a gathering of a pack of alley cats, Nekoma answered the whistle's call.

They towered over her, all except Yaku who stood at even height with her. All Haruka wanted to do was sink into the floor and leave the vicinity.

"Starting today, our team will have a manager. I expect all of you to treat her like she's a part of the team." Manabu announced before he gestured to Haruka to take the wheel of her introduction.

When eyes landed on her, the girl resembled a pillar of ice, unmoving and frigid in her anxiety, barely keeping the tremor from her calm tone.

"… Please…take... care of me."

"PLEASE TAKE CARE OF US!" There was a resounding reply as the volleyball team gave her deep bows. Then almost immediately, Haiba Lev straightened his back like a bamboo rod, grinning in excitement.

"Welcome aboard Manager Lee-chan! You won't regret saying yes, and sorry about the spike, I really feel bad-oh wow your forehead is so red!"

The gall of this boy.

The brat grated her nerves more than her cheeky brothers. A startling feat when they've only barely been introduced. Haruka's left eye twitched, and the team swore in the heated, sweaty gymnasium, the temperature dropped several degrees.

"Who's fault is that, you stupid lion." Yaku shoved his elbow into the gargantuan first year's gut, causing the boy to keel over.

"Ow! Yaku-san!" He cast an indignant glance at the short libero who did not look apologetic in the slightest.

Then a slim hand landed on his shoulder. Lev turned, only to freeze.

He hadn't heard her approach, yet Nekoma's new manager stood before him; and from his hunched angle, Haruka gazed down upon him with a shadow looming over her eyes, further emphasizing their blue glow.

"It's alright." It really did not sound alright. "Cicero once said any man can make mistakes…" The hand on his shoulder tightened. "but only an idiot persists in his error."

"…I.. Uh…" Lev felt his knees wobble. "Yes ma'am."

Their lion somehow de-evolved into a kitten, and the players all found themselves resisting the urge to step away. Fantasies of a cute and lovely manager were slowly crumbling into an artic wasteland.

His response earned him a small, chillingly pretty smile that never reached those eyes.

"Pleasure making your aquaintance, Haiba-san." When the hand left his shoulder, Lev felt unbalanced as though a weight was suddenly lifted from him.

Lee Haruka gave the team a departing bow, elegance defining every movement of her gesture, before she departed. There was a resounding echo of the door closing in her wake followed by multiple exhales.

"And her name is supposed to allude to spring. The irony."

"She isn't called ice queen for nothing."

"For a beauty, she isn't exactly…cute or sweet."

"You have to admit though, she's kinda cool."

"And scary."

In the murmurs, Lev turned to Kenma, still hunched and shaken, asked.

"She was your tutor?" which sounded a lot like (HOW ARE YoU ALIVE?)

"She's nicer than you'd think." Kenma muttered.

"Oi oi! Stop whining and be grateful!" Kuroo growled, irked by the immaturity of their response. At least now they had a manager.

Coach Manabu turned to his senior. "Can't deny she doesn't seem like the friendliest, but she seems pretty diligent." and that was all Coach Manabu could hope for.

"Hn." The old man only grunted, shifting his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture, but his thoughts recalled a conversation with Lee Haruka's youngest brother.

 _"Neko Jiisan..." The boy faced the sky, tossing the ball in a repetitive motion as gravity returned his toss._

 _"Nani?" Nekomata Yasufumi sipped sipped his tea, seated comfortably on a bench. The sun and tea brought welcomed warmth in the early spring chill._

 _"… Volleyball makes you excited right? It makes your heart beat fast just by watching it?"_

 _"I suppose." Where was the boy going with this? He looked pensive today, so unlike his usual loud self._

 _".…Do you think my sister would be excited by it?" Hikaru caught the ball and gazed at him with an inquisitive sense of hope._

 _Nekomata deduced something must have happened with the boy's sister. He set down his tea and folded his arms._

 _"People like different things. You can expect your sister to have the same interests as you."_

 _"I know..." Sky blue eyes appeared downcast. "I know we're all different…I just wished… I think it's called wishful thinking?"_

 _"Mmm. You wished she would like volleyball? Or at least be excited about it?" It was an odd thing to be so somber about._

 _"I just want her to be excited about something." Hikaru turned to him, frowning in thought. "She's never excited."_

 _Nekomata regarded him with a puzzled look._

 _"She's never like…WAAAAH happy or anything." Hikaru jumped for emphasis. "She smiles and laughs a bit sometimes…But I've never seen her get…what's the word…passinet?"_

 _"Passionate."_

 _"Yeah, that!" The frown turned into a pout. "Even when she ran races and danced with ribbons, she never looked as if she had that feeling. She doesn't celebrate when she does things or wins or get's perfect scores. She just looks bored…or tired."_

 _"Some people are just calm, Hikaru. It's how they are." Nekomata tried to mollify the boy, but he only seemed to get more riled up._

 _"People call her a robot. A cyborg. Say she's nothing but a pretty face. They're wrong. They don't understand." Hikaru hid his eyes under the veil of his fringe, grip tightened on the ball._

 _"Some people often say bad things to those they don't understand."_

 _"She doesn't make it easy for them to understand." The old coach blinked. It was rare for the boy to speak anything remotely ill or flawed of his 'perfect sister'. "I wish she would. Cuz if they understood, they would see that she's an awesome person."_

 _"I'm sure your sister is…Demo, Hikaru. That's something your sister has to figure out for herself. You can't force her to let people into her head or make her excited about something. What you can do is support her, and when she does find the thing she's passionate about, make sure your sister never lets that go."_

/

/

The alley cats had another addition to their stray little gang. She took the time to feed them as usual before she went home despite the headache torturing her every step. By the time she came to her house, Haruka was ready to sleep for eternity.

She sighed. "Tadaima..." The house smelled of herbs, cooked vegetables, and tomato sauce. No doubt, Hiro was trying one of his fanciful culinary experiments.

Like always, Hikaru rushed to greet her. "Welcome hooome~, Hiro nii is making Ratatouille."

"Like in the Pixar movie?"

"Uhuh!" He hugged her midriff before trotting back to the kitchen.

Haruka withheld another sigh as she took off her shoes and set them neatly on the shoe shelf. Her head still had its dull ache and made the commute back home a tedious task.

She entered the kitchen, making a bee line for the medicine cabinet.

"Sup, Nee-san." Hiro verbally acknowledged her while he kept his attention towards the thinly sliced vegetables on the counter-top. With careful hands, he tucked the slices neatly onto the tray layered with sauce.

"Hmmmm. Save me a plate." Ah, there it was. She grasped the small bottle of aspirin and shook two pills out into her palm.

"Not eating with us?"

"No. I have a headache." The water dispenser chirped as she pressed the button for lukewarm water.

"Long day?" Patting a hand onto his apron to wipe of the excess water, he turned the oven nozzle to begin the preheating process.

"Something like that."

"Rooibos tea?"

"That would be great. Thanks Hiro."

Just then, Hibiki entered through the backyard door with an empty dog bowl in his hand. "Oh, hey Nee-sa-what the fuck happened to your FORHEAD?"

"Language Hibikun!" Hiro snapped, turning to the said sister. Upon seeing her forehead, Hiro's indignance turned into mild horror. "But yeah, what the hell happened to your forehead?"

There was a blotchy red welt staining the pale skin, partially concealed by her side fringe."

"Ran into a mild mishap." Haruka huffed, sipping her water.

The twins wore mirrored looks of incredulity.

Then Hibiki's face darkened into an ominous expression.

"Was it a person?"

Yes. It was a tall half Russian idiot first year. But Haruka did not say that. The last thing she wanted was for Hiro and Hibiki to get malicious for her sake AGAIN.

"No." Haruka lied smoothly. "I wasn't looking at what was in front of me." It wasn't entirely a lie. She really had not seen the ball coming.

That seemed to settle the ire.

"Wow, nice going Nee-san." Hibiki eased into a bemused expression while Hiro simply laughed.

"Need some ice, Nee-san?" Hikaru looked worried. Sweet boy, at least one of her brothers was an angel.

"No need. That was already taken care of." She remarked calmly.

"Pft, did you go to the nurse's office?"

"No, one of the Nekoma volleyball boys got some for me."

"...Volleyball boys?" Hiro adjusted his glasses, curiosity evident in his gaze. Hibiki's initial amusement began to fade into suspicion. "What were you doing with volleyball boys?"

Might as well tell them now. Haruka gave them a smile.

"I considered your commentaries on my school life and decided to become a manager for the team."

Wait for it.

"What the fu-heck!" Hibiki corrected himself quickly at the glare sent his way. "I SAID NO BOY'S TEAMS."

"And I considered your commentary. Obviously, I chose to ignore it." Haruka countered calmly, sipping her water.

"Wait until dad finds out." Hiro muttered, earning a savage glance from their eldest.

"Ooooh! Volleyball!" Hikaru jumped up and down like a hyperactive kangaroo. "Nee-chan! Are they cool? Do you think they can give me some pointer-"

"Hikaru, we're not supposed to be supportive of this… this HERESY."

"Why? Nee-chan is going to do what she does best, and she's going to do it for volleyball. That's great!" Hikaru spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world before returning to his initial ramble. "How tall are they? Do they have an ace? Is he awesome? I want to be a middle blocker, so maybe meet a middle blocker. Oh and I told the swim teacher. He looked kinda sad, I think cuz he was hoping to see you, but he told me to tell you that he said hello, and he's free to hang out so you can come by anytime, but I said you hated the water so-"

And Hikaru rambled on while Hiro and Hibiki began to converse silently to themselves in their twin manner. The oven chirped, announcing the end of its preheat while Sirius howled at the racket in their house.

Haruka simple sighed, gingerly rubbing her forehead. While she had high hopes that the position would make her school life interesting, she just wished it did not start with a spike to the face.

* * *

A hard spike in the face hurts like a bitch. Seriously. I shiver at my personal memory.

Read and review!

Manascript


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Before I continue, I forgot to mention. I want to be a bit more lax with the sequential order of this story. It'll eventually evolve into a series of anthologies instead of staying strictly chronological. That's enough of me, please read and review!**

 **-Mana**

The Little Things

 ** _"Great things are done in a series of small things put together." -Vincent Van Gogh_**

She was quiet, always immersed in whatever she had in hand. It had been an awkward start. She came in and greeted them with a light nod before disappearing behind the scenes. A pair of earphones would be lodged firmly in her ear as she went about in and out of the gym, leather bound planner in hand. It was hard to figure out what she was doing. It was almost as if she was trying to remain unseen. She didn't slack off in any manner. No, she dutifully distributed towels when they were needed, picked up stray balls, and helped the coaches clear some logistics with that planner of hers, but she never made efforts to communicate with them unless it was necessary.

It took them a week to notice. The changes were gradual and subtle, but as the changes stacked, the Nekoma Volleyball players began noticing the little things more and more.

It started off with towels.

With all the jumps, dives, and sudden sprints in their daily practice routine, the team was bound to work up a sweat. Today was a particularly warm day despite it being spring- and with the air conditioner still set for chillier rooms, by the hour, sweat poured from them in droplets. It stung their eyes and distracted their vision on the ball.

Kuroo eventually called for a much-needed water break. They made a beeline for the towels stacked neatly to the side of the court in one of the metal baskets.

The moment they placed their perspiring faces into the drying cloth, it felt like heaven.

"So … _soft_!" Yaku whispered wistfully, burying his face into the towel once more.

The towels had always been rather stiff if not rough before. And although they got the job done of wiping away sweat, rubbing and wiping their face would often leave their skin feeling a bit tender or raw when they rubbed to hard. Now the texture felt soft, plush, and fresh smelling. It was positively heavenly.

"Uwaaaa. It's like rubbing your face in clouds." Lev gushed, cradling his towel under his jaw.

There were murmurs of agreement. Even Kenma was not immune to reacting to the softness. With the towel hanging around his neck, he buried his cheek and nose at its end and inhaled deeply, marveling at the texture. There was a subtle smell of jasmine woven into the clean cotton fragrance.

Kuroo began to wipe the back of his neck when he spotted a familiar head of pastel hair bundled in a high and simple updo. Haruka, zipped up in a plain grey tracksuit jacket with a pair of long black track pants, was walking towards the door to the supply rooms with a duffel bag and clipboard in hand. She stopped halfway in her stride when she noticed a stray volleyball at her feet and took the time to pluck it from the lonely ground and place it in the basket with the others before leaving through the door.

/

The next had been the water.

Kenma resented cardio with a bitter level of loathing. It was exhausting and seemingly endless. One foot after the other, there was no end to the damn trail near their school. The only satisfying moment of jogging was the water break, then Kuroo would have the team enter another grueling set of conditioning cardio but in a different manner.

"Oh shit, I forgot to refill the water coolers!" A first year by the name of Shibayama Yuki stumbled in his jog, mortified at his mistake.

Kenma's heart sank. His lungs were burning, and his feet felt like lead weights. The rough sensation in his parched throat only stung with the long sigh escaping his lips.

"What are you talking about" Yamamoto exclaimed, jogging with an extra spring to his feet. Sweat poured over his brow but the boundlessly passionate second year did not seem fazed. "they're up ahead."

 _Thank God_.

Sure enough, the coolers were there, along with their water bottles. The group sped their pace in their eagerness to hydrate, leaving Kenma behind by a few meters. They chugged down their remaining water in a few large gulps before turning their attention to the coolers. The third years were first out of respect.

To their delight, the liquid felt cold as it entered their bottles. But their delight did not end there.

"It's… _sweet_." Kai commented in his low voice, curiously staring at his sports bottle.

There was a mild tang of citrus sweetness to the water's flavor, nothing overwhelming, like a clean sports drink from the convenience store.

Even the coaches had a cup for themselves. With the sun beating down on them, it was a welcomed refreshment to everyone.

There was a subtle shift of movement in Coach Manabu's peripheral. He turned to see their manager wiping down an empty cooler for food next to the garden hose. It had only been a week since her taking of the manager position, and not once had they see her sit idly to the side. She was always around and about doing something much like a fussing animal preparing their nest.

He called to her. "The water is good, Haruka-chan. Did you put something in it?"

Haruka gave him a nod, focused as always, and pulled out what appeared to be a bottle of deep orange-red liquid.

"It's a vinegar drink made from apple cider. I added a few cups into the kegs."

"Vinegar drink?"

"It'll only be an occasional thing during extensive conditioning days. A fitness website said it helps with the muscles and overall energy levels." She explained, returning her focus to the stains on the cooler's lid. The coaches glanced at one another before shrugging.

The girl was like a walking Wikipedia of some sort, but she never spoke unless spoken to aside from greetings.

/

Then the storage closet.

They were still growing accustomed to Haruka. The girl didn't say much and sometimes she was simply _strange_. Perhaps it was because it was the first week and she was still trying to acclimate to her position. Still, they saw some strange things in that first week.

"Why is Lee-san wearing latex gloves?" Inouka So asked, volleyball in hand to practice receives with Yamamoto.

The question turned heads. Sure enough, Haruka was walking by and appeared-in the only way they could describe-as though she were prepped for surgery. Latex gloves donned with a face mask firmly placed, fringe neatly pinned to the side, Haruka disappeared into the corridor with the secretive air of a mad scientist.

"Maybe she's working on creating a monster." Lev muttered, earning a volleyball to the face by Yaku.

"Focus on the set, you idiot."

...

When practice came to an end, cleaning duty was assigned.

"Oi, Yamamoto. Get the mops!" Kuroo ordered, zipping up his jacket in the locker room. "Kenma, go help him out."

"Ehhh. Shouldn't the first years be doing this." Yamamoto muttered.

Kenma sighed and followed his fellow second year to the storage room. He readied his lungs to hold his breath. The room was always dusty and made his nose itch.

They entered the closet and Kenma turned on the light switch only to jump when Yamamoto yelped.

"What the hell!"

The room… What was once a room filled haphazard array of utilities with layers of dust caking the shelves was now a pristinely organized room, dust-free, smelling of lemon cleaning solution. Everything was organized and sorted into the metal shelves shining with clean luster. There were even boxes with labels grouping them together.

There was a voice in the background. "What is it this time, Yamamoto." Yaku growled, ready to chew into the mohawked spiker for the sudden commotion. "Get those mops and brooms out already. It shouldn't be hard to find in the me-." Morisuke Yaku fell silent. Did he step into another dimension where their storage closet used to be? Why was it so clean?

"Since when did we have a _vacuum_?" Kenma wondered out loud.

/

And then there were the hands-on supplies. Haruka was like a walking supply cabinet who would magically conjure up the needed items at a moment's notice.

"Ah, muscle cramp. Anyone have a patch? or some muscle cream?" Yaku limped to the bench, wincing at the pull of his muscle fibers on his calf. The moment he sat down, a tube of muscle cream was handed to him.

"Oh-Arigatou." It was like she had the tube hidden up her sleeve. Where did she even come from?

She was like a fairy god mother.

...

"Anyone have finger tape? I nee- oh…Thanks Haruka-san. "

Haruka appeared, unwinding a strip of finger tape.

...

"The ball is flat; can somebody get the ball pum-Lee-san were you hiding that?"

The girl said nothing as she placed the pump beside the stunned player.

...

Even the coaches were surprised.

"Oi, anyone seen my whi- oh thank you, Haruka-chan." Manabu blinked in surprise as Haruka dangled the whistle beside him.

"It was by the benches and dirty. I wiped it down."

Manabu nodded in thanks, adorning his neck with the clean whistle while Nekomata scratched his head.

"If I recall correctly, we're having camp on the second of May?" Nekomata mumbled.

"No, coach. It is on the third. Here's a suggested list of groceries I made that's within our budget." She handed him her clipboard and sure enough, the financial notes were concise and detailed.

"Oh, thanks." Nekomata looked pleased, briefly perusing the paper. "I'll leave it to you, if that's alright. and feel free to ask for help from the team."

"That's right, don't overwork yourself Haruka-chan. It's only the first week on duty, and you've already done a lot." Manabu added, frowning in worry as he looked for signs of fatigue. There appeared to be no signs of exhaustion from Haruka, although she did have shadows staining the skin under her eyes. But those had been there prior to her work.

Considering her academic background and meticulous manners, Manabu had the feeling the girl didn't go easy on herself. The iconic signs of a perfectionist.

"My apologies, coach. It's just the first week. It helps me adjust if I work a little more thoroughly than usual. And they're just minor details so it's not troublesome."

"Don't be sorry." Manabu gave her a good-natured smile. "The boys will become pampered without realizing it with all the things you're doing. You're taking the tasks like fish to water…don't hesitate to do the same with getting to know the team and speaking your mind." The girl was painfully formal, and it placed the boys at a distance. That was the only chisel in her figure as their ideal manager.

To build a relationship as their manager was just as important as being the help. It made her a part of the team. Despite all her resourcefulness, she lacked the connection.

But communication was a two-way street. He knew the boys were in fault as much as the girl. They shied away like cats to cold water and watched her from a distance.

Perhaps Haruka was an only child or the child of an old family. It would explain her lack of acclimation to the social environment of the team.

"Hikaru mentioned your father did computer work?" Nekomata asked.

"He's technically a software engineer." She answered, looking towards the player's practice with an unwavering air of attention. "but since he's in charge of a new program development project, he's overseas in Silicon Valley, California."

Sounded like a well off but time-consuming job. "So, it's just your mother and you?"

Something shifted in Haruka's posture. ".…No. I have three younger brothers."

Manabu let out a low whistle. "Geez, your mother has her hands full. You must be used to helping her out a lot, eh?"

"…Not really. She's not around." She began shifting her feet.

"A double income family? Does she travel with your father?"

"No, she died." The statement sounded so simple, as if she said the sky was blue.

A thick silence weighted the air. Nekomata's content expression faded into one of sobriety while Manabu appeared both apologetic and sympathetic.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright, coach." Haruka's calm visage did not shift nor did her tone. "She died four years ago."

"Your homeroom teacher never mentioned that." Nekomata confessed. They had approached her sensei, a sharp lady-who appeared wholeheartedly happy that her top student was involved in something. There was little hesitation on the teacher's part in registering her as an official member of their team. She only gushed praises on Haruka's ability to be responsible and brilliant in the things she set her mind to.

 _"-although I must confess, she does not set her mind to making friends very often if ever. She's well-mannered but often her behavior keeps people at a distance, so she's never really made friends. I couldn't get her previous school records, with her transferring to a number of places. I only can assume her family's lifestyle limited Haruka's ability to connect with her peers. Yosh, this is a perfect opportunity to change that!"_

Haruka gave the coach a polite smile. "It's not something many people know."

"Ah, sorry for prying, Haruka-chan." But the light-haired girl brushed off the apology with a shake of her head.

"It's not because it's painful. It's just something that doesn't come up as a topic of conversations often, so I don't feel the need to mention it." Haruka caught a stray ball that bounced her and tossed it back towards a waiting Lev who gave her a hasty bow in thanks, still unable to meet her eyes since the day he spiked her face. "And it seems to make people uncomfortable and sad. As though this tragedy is a special one out of billions."

Pale eyes casted them a sideways glance. Curiosity was evident in their expression, so she continued carefully, her voice thorough in hopes of making things clear.

"I'm a very fortunate person. I have a good home, loving siblings, and a stable life. I've been given good things that I don't deserve…The least I can do is try my best to be worthy of those things. So as a manager, I would like to do the best I can do." Her pensive gaze faltered as she realized her words were on the verge of turning into some monologue. Mildly mortified at her cheesiness, Haruka straightened her back.

"I'm sorry. I drifted off topic and-"

A chuckle interrupted her chagrin. Nekomata's shoulders shook with quiet laughter resounding deep in his throat, making the crow's feet etched on the corners of his eyes even more evident.

"I can see why your brother adores you."

"Eh?" She tilted her head, unsure of what the coach truly meant. "Well… Hikaru has a big heart." It would take a demonic possession for Hikaru to truly think malicious thoughts about anyone.

"As do you, Haruka-chan." Nekomata threw the startled girl a shrewd gaze, his felid smile still plastered on his face. "Don't be afraid of showing it.

/

"She's so intense." Yamamoto muttered, watching the girl as she placed the stray volleyballs into the ball bin before picking up the basket of used towels without a moment's hesitation.

"That's hypocritical coming from you." Kenma snorted.

"But she's like a machine. I've never seen her sit down for more than five minutes."

"She's a hard worker." Yaku defended.

"And some might say a try-hard." Kuroo shrugged. "Maybe she's trying to impress us."

"It's just how she is." Kenma added curtly, sipping his bottle. He recalled the time she was his tutor. She would bring him color coded notes with annotations to their sessions for him to keep and even allowed him to borrow a console game from her father's collection on the grounds he play the game in English mode.

"Well." Yamamoto cocked a brow when Haruka reappeared with a foldable chair for the coach in hand along with what appeared to be a thermos of tea. There was a brief exchange of pleasantries as the senior accepted the comforts with a smile. "Hardworking…but antisocial."

The third years felt more than a spike of irritation at Yamamoto's shallow statement. Yaku couldn't resist calling out the wing spiker. "Why are you complaining? She's not hurting anybody. If anything, we should be grateful." Having a manager changed things for the better. Yaku, who had been the most conscience of the extra maintenance work, relished the break from doing the little hassles that came with the lack of extra help. They had more time to focus on practice.

But in all the efficiency and resourcefulness, without a doubt there was something blatantly lacking in the social sphere. They had hoped that, despite their initial discomfort, it would be easier to get closer to their new manager after practice when everyone began to unwind. To their disappointment, that was not the case. Haruka always had some vague prior arrangement.

...

"Lee-san, the guys are going to the ramen place if you wanna join us." Yuki approached her, fiddling with his uniform. He was given a polite smile.

"Thank you but something came up at home. I have to go. Enjoy your ramen."

...

"Haruka! We're getting burgers!" Yaku waved to the girl as she hung up her phone. She looked a bit put off by whatever the caller had said.

"Ah, sorry Morisuke-senpai. I have to take care of a few things."

...

"Haruka-senpai" Lev waved as Haruka locked the gym after a long practice. "We're getting Yakisoba!"

"That sounds nice." She commented offhandedly. "Have fun. I have to head home."

"Eeeeeh." Lev's shoulders sank as Haruka walked away at a hurried pace. Yamamoto offered a hard pat of comfort.

"I think she just doesn't want to hang out." He scowled, folding his arms. "Maybe she just doesn't like us."

A large hand landed on his shoulder. "Don't mind, Yamamoto." Kuroo chastised lightly.

"It's the third time we've asked." He countered.

"She's probably busy." But Yamamoto would not be swayed by Kenma's comment.

"Yeah right. Next time we ask, I'm not gonna let her weasel out of it easy."

/

/

When it came to changes in schedules, the first week would always be chaotic for the Lee family. They were a team, a symphony that harmonized well with one another, whenever they rearranged their lives. But at times, it would put exhausting pressure on their eldest. This change had been particularly tedious. On the second day of attending the volleyball program, Hikaru ended up in the infirmary with a sprained ankle and a cut that required stitches. Apparently from what his apologetic instructed told her through the phone, boy had been eager to receive a ball coming his way, but his footing had been clumsy, and he ended up smacking his head onto the hardwood floor. The impact had been hard enough to knock the boy out and give him his stitches. What made it more stressing was the fact that the situation could have been avoided if he had the proper shoes on.

"Lee Hikaru." Hikaru nearly fell off the nurse's chair in fear when he heard the frigid voice of an angry sister. When Haruka marched up to him, he sank in his chair.

"It wasn't my fault." He argued, wincing when she took the icepack from his hands and began applying gentle pressure on his forehead. "I was just trying to get the ball and-"

Hikaru gave him a silencing glare. "I recall you had me buy you a pair of volleyball shoes." The glare shifted downward to his school sneakers. "If I'm not mistaken. Those are _not_ the shoes I got you."

".…I forgot them."

"Your teacher shouldn't have even allowed you in the first place if you didn't have them."

"It wasn't his fault!" Hiro panicked. The last thing he wanted was Haruka turning the brunt of her fury onto the coach. "He benched me for not bringing them, but I saw a ball going out of court and I just sort of…dove for it." His voice grew smaller and smaller as Haruka's expression turned darker and darker. Honestly, his sister was downright terrifying when she was angry. Her anger wasn't the loud type where she would screech his ear off. It was a quiet anger, one that would freeze hell when her anger level came to a breaking point.

He nearly shuddered when she started speaking again. It came out in a in a soft, lethal tenor.

"… You've learned your lesson. You will not enter this sports facility unprepared again." When he tried to look away, a cold finger hooked his chin and gently pulled his face up to meet her frosty orbs. "Do I make myself clear?"

"…Yes, Nee-san."

The misfortune didn't stop there. Hiro, who was usually the designated caretaker of the house when Haruka was absent, fell sick with a stomach flu passed onto him from a girl at school. When Haruka heard the specifics, she nearly hit him over the head with a ladle while making rice porridge.

"You couldn't wait a week to kiss the girl?"

" _She_ kissed _me_." He defended feebly from his bundled-up position on the couch.

Hibiki grimaced, making sure to stay a few meters away from his twin. "Gross, which one was it?"

It wasn't an isolated incident. The twins were notoriously known to be heart throbs with their fair share of fan girls. They didn't mind the attention so long as it wasn't destructive but Haruka found it thoroughly disturbing. These girls needed healthier hobbies or a reevaluation of their priorities.

"Do you remember the blonde?"

"The dirty blonde or the platinum blonde."

"The one with the red highlights."

"Yikes, was it French?"

"No, but she wasn't half bad. She had grapefruit chapstick on. I think it's the Kurt's Bee brand."

Meanwhile, as the Lee twins discussed the kiss, Haruka all but smacked her hand to her forehead. Needless to say, she was forced to make the extra effort after school to care for her brothers that week. It didn't help her irk when the team began to ask her to join them after practice, no doubt they were trying their best to be friendly with her, but it came at an inconvenient time. It pained her to deny them despite keeping a straight face.

All those missed opportunities. She felt guilty at rejecting their earnest offers.

Her feelings did not go unnoticed to her keen siblings. They could see the fatigue in her stance as she went about in the kitchen. It wasn't abnormal for Haruka to go the extra mile for people she cared about, especially when they were family.

Hiro and Hibiki looked at one another before Hiro spoke.

"You know, Nee-san…You don't always have to put us first."

"Say that when you're not puking your guts out, moron." She all but snapped.

"We're serious, Nee-san." Hibiki rolled his eyes at her snark. "Honestly, you need to stop being a control-freak." He turned away from the seething glare sent his way. Haruka looked ready to throw a kitchen knife at the musician.

"What Hibikun means is that we want you to give yourself a bit more focus." Hiro hastily added to appease their sister's growing ire. He then gave her a somber smile.

"It's okay that you won't always be around, and honestly, we need to prepare for it. You need to let us prepare for it and grow up, because you need to go on your own journey eventually when you graduate in two years." He spoke the truth. With how Haruka acted, in all her self sacrificial ways, she was causing them to over rely on her. Her own life would be put on halt because of her brothers if it wasn't already.

There was a resounding silence amongst the older Lee siblings. Haruka's hard gaze softened briefly before she proceeded to return to her cooking.

But of course, the sweet silence did not survive long.

"Wise words from a dumbass who kissed a sick girl" Hibiki scoffed.

"I know, seriously." Haruka added with a snort.

"You guys are terrible. And SHE KISSED ME." Hiro groaned.

/

It was Friday, and it was the last time they would try to invite Manager Lee to join them. At least, that was Yamamoto's verdict as he mentally prepared himself in approaching her.

 _Don't be swayed by her beauty. Don't be swayed by her beauty. Don't be swayed by her beauty._

Yamamoto had all but marched up to her- only to freeze in his tracks when those cornflower blue eyes gazed upon him.

 _Be a man. Be a man. don't be swayed by her-she looks tired…dammit those_ _ **eyes**_ _…_

The furious mantra in his head faltered. He had to act fast before his masculine will crumbled.

"Haruka-san!" He barked. "We're going to eat! Come with us!"

Haruka hesitated briefly, startled by the intensity of his request before responding,

"Gomen. I need to recheck some inventory for the camp, Yamamoto-san. It will take me some time. Have a nice meal." She bowed and turned away from him and began to flip through her planner.

Yamamoto clenched his jaws, wearing a constipated expression, not moving from his strange stance. Knees shoulder's width apart, he stood there and stared at her.

"Kuro, Yamamoto is being an idiot." Kenma deadpanned, watching the interaction a few meters away with the other players.

"On it." The captain sighed and went to intervene. This time they would not be swayed, or at least Kuroo wouldn't. He stepped forward, gently pushing Yamamoto's statue to the side.

"We'll just wait for you then."

Her perusal froze in the middle of her page turn. There was a heartbeat of silence before Lee Haruka turned, blank eyes now wide and perplexed. The rest of the team simply stared from a distance, surprised at her surprise. Haruka hardly ever seemed moved by anything.

"… Eh?"

"You're going to eat with us eventually, Haruka-san. The team can wait here all night for you." Kuroo drawled, hands shoved into his pockets as he regarded her with a lax smirk.

Blue eyes blinked. Then darted to the rest of the team-who froze-as though she were waiting for them to argue against his proclamation. They simply stood there in silence. Morisuke Yaku smiled at her with an encouraging nod. "Come on, Haruka! Help us decide what to eat."

"Or is it that you just don't want to hang out with us?" Yamamoto nearly growled, his hunger and temper giving him the strength to move.

"Well if you insist... give me five minutes."

"Are we not good enough for yah, eh? Is that what?" He continued, ears deaf to her soft statement. "I'll have yah know that-"

"Shut up Yamamoto." Kuroo berated while Haruka simply appeared unamused. The mohawked boy had the decency to look apologetic when facing the brunt of her stare.

"Wait one moment." The team patiently obeyed as she entered the gym. After five minutes, the girl returned to the gate, book bag in her arms.

...

To say the following silence that ensued was awkward was an understatement. Most of the team had not expected Manager Lee to agree to a meal. On Haruka's end, she was simply unsure of how to go about a conversation now that she finally was able to agree. She didn't even think they would try inviting her again, but their persistence was something she would later be immensely thankful for.

The problem was that she never ate in a large group of this size that wasn't family or family related. It felt mildly degrading for someone who was so accustomed to learning and adjusting quickly.

 _My social life really is deplorable. Thank God, it's not graded._

Only Kenma, Kuroo, and Kai hardly seemed fazed. Laid back as ever, Kuroo began to wonder out loud.

"We had beef last time."

"No ramen." Kenma's eyes were glued to his game as he spoke.

"I don't want donburi." Inouka gave his input.

"No yaki. Tired of yaki. I kinda want something fresh."

"Sushi!" There was no need for Lev to raise his hand with his height, yet the boy did anyway in his excitement. "I want sushi!"

"…eeeeh fine."

"Oh, I'm down."

"Sounds good."

"Is there a place that would take this many people?" Yaku scratched his head. "Mr. Sushi closed a while back. It's the only place we went to."

"…I have a place in mind." Heads whipped towards Haruka. She was perusing through her cellphone's contacts, ignoring their questioning looks.

"Oya oya?" Kuroo's smirk turned into a grin, pleased that she was participating. "Where?"

"It's a few stops away, if you don't mind the commute." She then pressed the call button. They watched as the girl began walking. There was indecipherable chatter in her phone immediately after a polite "hello" escaped Haruka's lips.

"It's been a long time, Ojirou-san..…Yes, I've been well..… I was wondering if your establishment is busy.…. Well, if you don't mind then perhaps I can claim a promise made last winter?…"

"Who's she talking to?" Yamamoto whispered.

Yuki shrugged. "She sounds like she's making reservations."

"Reservations? Are we going to some classy place?" Yaku nudged Kuroo worriedly. They were high school students. They didn't have the budget for finer meal courses in restaurants that needed reservations.

The team tentatively followed Haruka as she continued to speak through her cell. "A team.…There are twelve of them, is that too much?.…really?" A small smile grew on her lips as Haruka continued in a soft, polite voice. "Thank you, Ojirou-san. I will see you in twenty minutes…That would be lovely. Good bye." She hung up the phone and turned over her shoulder.

"Well, best if we hurry a bit. You guys seem hungry." when they continued trudging reluctantly, Haruka tilted her head and raised a fine brow.

"Unless I'm wrong...?"

"Are we going to an expensive place?" Yaku asked the question they all were wondering. "It sounds expensive."

"Don't worry, Morisuke-senpai. Price will not be an issue." She turned away and began to walk at a quicker pace.

Comforted by her words, the team hurried after her. There was a brief few minutes of silence before the boys began chatting among themselves regarding various topics.

Haruka walked in silence until Yaku sped to her side.

"So, Haruka. I have to ask. How did you get the towels soft?"

"Baking soda and vinegar." She answered. "Drying them only partially through the machine and hanging them helps as well."

"Sounds like it's a bit more of a hassle. You really went out of your way the first week with even the little things."

"Mmmm." She blinked. "I'd disagree, Morisuke-senpai. I just followed the logical approach."

Yaku chuckled. "Not just the towels but the drinks, the organizing, the cleaning, you even updated our first aid kit."

"Preparations, precautions, and comforts. That is a part of being a manager, isn't it?" Her response seemed robotic.

 _Like a cyborg_. "I-I guess."

"Granted" She continued, "The cleaning was a bit extra, but that was just for my own sake." If she was going to work with those things, she demanded to work in sanitary conditions.

They lapsed into silence once more, but Yaku's side glances did not go unnoticed by the girl. Most of the players were skittish around her, yet Yaku was the one going out of his way to stir a conversation with her. It was… flattering. She wasn't used to being a conversationalist, but for their sake she should try. Perhaps it would be good on her to mention something about herself, some trivial fact.

".… I have brothers."

That caught Yaku's attention. He smiled with a lighter spring to his steps, ears alert.

"Is that so?"

"Three. They're younger. The youngest is Hikaru."

"Coach says he is a fan of volleyball."

"Understatement of the century." Haruka snorted, her walk was becoming less rigid with the thought of her youngest. "He joined a volleyball club recently. And then there's Hibiki and Hiro, the twins. Hibiki is a bit of a dancer but mostly a musician and Hiro enjoys creative media work and cooking."

"Eeeeh, so you're the oldest, Haruka-senpai?" Lev, with his giraffe legs, caught up to them easily. He overheard their conversation and couldn't help himself. Haruka hardly ever spoke, let alone speak about herself.

"Explains why you're so responsible." Yaku said thoughtfully. "They all sound pretty cool."

"You should bring the volleyball lover out to our practice sometime!" Lev suggested. "We can teach him!"

His silver haired head was soon in the grasp of their captain.

"WE? Don't get ahead of yourself, idiot." Kuroo scoffed. "You can't teach cuz you need to be taught."

"Kuroooo-saaan." Lev whined. His outburst was ignored by Yaku who merely rolled his eyes before returning his attention to his and Haruka's conversation.

"They must be upset that we stole their sister." He chuckled.

Surprisingly, Haruka gave a soft snort with an expression of fond exasperation.

"Actually, they're the ones that gave me the idea. They were worried that I lacked something in school."

"You? But you're a top student." Yaku frowned. What did the girl lack in terms of school?

"Not my academics but just in general. My life is rather…mundane if you took my brothers out of the picture. They lead far more interesting lives than I do." She confessed. "But I'm hoping this changes things. Who knows, maybe this'll be exciting for me.

"Eh? I find that hard to believe cuz you don't seem-ow!" Lev's comment earned him a kick in the shin by Yaku.

"I don't seem like what?" Haruka inquired calmly as ever, "A lively person?"

"I-it's not that, Haruka." Yaku quickly intervened, occasionally glaring at Lev for his crassness. Considering the dry glance sent his way, Haruka did not believe him.

"It's just because you seem to shy away from us sometimes. We're surprised you finally said yes to eating out with us."

"Or even talk to us." Lev muttered and cringed at Yaku's glare.

"Ah, I guess I should apologize. My brothers were sick, and I also got caught up with the little things that needed my attention. I was nervous of neglecting my duties as a manager." She confessed.

Many were mollified at her explanation. Having brothers to take care of would be time consuming.

Yaku smiled at her, "Aw, Haruka, you don't need to work so hard. A bad job is the opposite of what you're doing."

"Oh. That's comforting," She muttered thoughtfully.

Upon hearing this, Kuroo sighed and within a few strides and a shove to toss Lev out of his way, he walked by Haruka's opposite side. "Loosen up, Ha-ru-ka." He gave her a crooked grin. "Feel free to have some fun, joke around, laugh, or smile and chill with us." The grin widened into one of utter mischief. "I promise we don't bite…Much."

Loosen up. It was such an ambiguous request she heard more often than not, and it was easier said than done.

 _"Haruka, chin up, back straight, and don't trudge around like that. A lady must glide."_

 _"Haruka, you were three points away from breaking the curve in the scores. Did you not study enough? You were so close!"_

 _"Haruka, your brothers might not have the smartest minds, but they have unique hobbies and a zeal. You need more than brains to get that scholarship."_

 _"Tighten your core into that pivot, Haruka! There's nothing to be proud of for getting silver when you could've gotten gold."_

 _"Talk less and smile more."_

 _"Don't disappoint me, Haruka."_

 _"You can do better."_

 _"It's not enough."_

 _"-mistake."_

She never did enough. She was never enough. And she will never be enough. That foul mantra dug its way into her chest like a pick axe, carving a cold well deep within her. She did her best to fill the gaps, to prove those words wrong, to show that she was worth it, and when she didn't-when she couldn't, it nearly tore her apart.

The last thing she wanted was for this situation to end up that way, to be rebranded with those words because she didn't do a proper job, because she missed the small details. Those small details made the biggest difference, and she was conditioned to make sure she didn't miss.

"Oi, Lev, move your ass. I'm hungry." Kuroo demanded, his voice snapping her out of her mental spiral of melancholy. None of them knew the thoughts running in her mind, but while she hoped to keep it that way, there was a knowing look underneath Kuroo's lackadaisical demeanor. The girl had fallen silent for a bit, looking distant as her grip tightened on the strap of her messenger bag.

Was it something he said? He often rubbed people the wrong way with or without trying to get a rise out of them.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to be late for the reservations. The place sounds good." Yaku was distracted by the thought of the food. His mouth watered in excitement.

/

/

Later at the restaurant entrance.

Morisuke Yaku's mouth felt dry as he stared at the establishment, _Mononoke Sea_. A hedge of bamboo surrounded the old gates of the restaurant. While it did not look like a modern establishment, the traditional style of the entry way and the overall size of the restaurant spoke of money and some decent amount of finesse. It was obviously a popular place, considering the small crowd of businessmen and couples who waited on the Zen-garden style front yard; popular and expensive.

"Uh…Haruka..?" He wasn't the only one who was anxious. The team shifted and fidgeted uncomfortably in their track suits, feeling out of place in the finery of the place.

She simply sighed. "She said it wasn't busy. Honestly, that woman-"

"HARUKA-SAMA!" a man donned in a yukata, apron, and chef's hat opened the slide door with a swipe of his eager hand. "Please come in!"

"Sama?!" The team tilted their head in unison. Their manager did not appear fazed or amused.

"Satoshi-san. Really? It's been a year. Can't I just be treated like a normal customer?"

"Unless I want to get fired, no." Satoshi laughed before beckoning them forward, pass the curious eyes of customers on the wait list. "Come! We have your table ready! Ojirou obaa-san will be so happy!"

The team followed nervously, trailing Haruka closely at her heel. The interior was spotlessly clean and decorated with paintings and paper lanterns shaped as fish for an overall festive color scheme. The atmosphere was lively, with men in suits dining and drinking after a hard day of work, families that wanted to treat their children out to a nice meal, and couples who bonded over food.

When they came to the island where a few chefs were working in a conveyer belt sushi system, there was a middle-aged woman in a kimono greeting Haruka in a joyful embrace.

Haruka returned the embrace as best as she could with one free arm, the other still holding her book bag. There was an air of obvious familiarity between the two.

"Haruka! You're growing more beautiful with each season. Let me have a good look at you." The woman then stood before her at arm's length, breaking the embrace. After looking her over, she frowned. "You still need to gain some weight. Thank goodness you came to us then!"

The lady, who they only could assume was Ojirou-san, then turned her attention towards them. For a woman dressed in an elegant kimono, they jumped in surprise at the sudden starstruck gleam in her smile.

"Oh myyyy, what handsome young men! Is this your volleyball team?"

"Ah…" Haruka nodded, following the woman's gaze. She tilted her head at the sight of their gawking expression, briefly perplexed before she gestured to the woman, not wanting to be rude.

"This is Ojirou Umeko. She's the owner of this establishment and a family friend. Ojirou-san, this is the Nekoma Volleyball team."

"P-Pleased to meet you!" They all stuttered and bowed as though they were of one body.

"Yare yare, you nearly had me faint when you called, Haruka-san." Ojirou grinned mischievously. "Bringing so many handsome young men with you?" She leaned and whispered none too quietly- audible to all, "I approve of the tall one with the wild dark hair."

Haruka appeared mildly mortified while Kuroo gave the lady a devilish grin, further exciting the restaurant owner.

"Ojirou-san, please. They're…my teammates. That is Kuroo Testuro senpai, he's the captain."

"Oh, a leader, even better." The woman cackled, nudging the exasperated high school girl before facing the team once more. "Sit down and eat as much as you like boys! It's on the house!"

"Eeeeeeeh? REALLY?!" Lev grew sparkly eyed while others simply stood there stunned. Even Kai's mouth was agape at the generosity. The lady simply nodded and gestured to the seats surrounding the very island where the chefs worked on the fresh ingredients.

"Ojirou-san, that's too much-" Yaku began before being interrupted.

"No no, consider this your one-time luck!" She chuckled. "This place owes a lot to Haruka-chan and her family. I swore to her that if she ever brought friends, I would treat them to a free meal!" She huffed, bumping Haruka with her hip. "But this stubborn girl hasn't brought anyone aside from family in over a year. I was beginning to think she had no friends at school, so it gives me peace to see all of you."

Haruka merely sighed once more and bowed to the woman. "Nevertheless, thank you Ojirou-san." The woman simply hugged her once more before she strode off to do her work overseeing the restaurant.

It took Haruka taking a seat for the team to rush to their own. Kenma found himself seated beside her with Kuroo on the opposite end. There was another lapse of awkwardness and uncertainty amongst them as they stared at the food on the rotating belt. The first years were practically salivating yet unsure of how and when to start while being polite.

Realizing they felt out of place, Haruka took the lead quickly and gave them a piece of advice. "Take whatever you want from the belt. If you want something that's not on the belt, just ask the chef and tell them what you want. This is the buffet section of this place so there's no price range with each plate."

A buffet…In other words, just eat as much as you want.

Haruka began their feeding frenzy when she selected a two-piece plate of sea urchin roll. Soon there was the sound of clinking plates as each member of the team chose the dish of their liking, too excited and too hungry to talk to one another.

With a joyful "Itadakimasu" they began eating. They tried their best to mind their manners as they savored every bite and grabbed one plate after another. The chefs did not seem to mind and striked conversations with the players as they deftly sliced, molded, and plated more sushi.

"Ah, volleyball takes me back to my high school days." A chef by the name of Mako began reminiscing when Kai divulged information of his position. "I was a wing spiker and a damn good one at that."

"Ohh, is that why your hand-rolls look like you just smashed your palms into the rice? Can't shake off your volleyball habits?" The head chef, a severe looking old man by the name of Jiro mocked.

"Harsh, senseeiii." Mako pouted while Kai chuckled.

It was a lively scene. The chefs were talkative, good natured, and good at their craft while the players were hungry and eager to taste the fine cuisine. Most intriguingly in all of this, the workers all seemed particularly attentive of their manager. She hardly ever reached for a plate, with Satoshi constantly putting a plate before her with the demand she eats more. While she wore an exasperated look, she did not seem to mind the pushy actions.

"Why they treat you like a princess?" Kuroo asked as he savored his raw mackerel hand roll.

"I want to say that's a bit of an exaggeration." Haruka rolled her eyes. "But in essence, my family and I helped out their business a few years back."

"Oh ho ho, she did more than that! Haruka and the Lee family practically resurrected our restaurant!" Satoshi exclaimed, having overheard them. Kuroo and even Kenma turned their attention at him for some more elaboration, to which Satoshi happily obliged.

"The restaurant hit a hard obstacle a few years back. Our grandfather, the previous owner, passed away without letting us know of the debt we were in. Our place had some damage too, and after the last earthquake, the old girl was about to crumble." His smile faded at the memory. "We thought it was the end of our livelihood. Then Ojirou-sama nearly had a heart failure from the stress. It forced her to be hospitalized for a week."

Satoshi then held up a finger. "But I guess that was destiny intervening for us! Because that's when she met Haruka-sama! She was like an angel!"

"You're being very dramatic, Satoshi-san. And honestly, can we stop with the 'sama'?" The said angel deadpanned after swallowing her salmon.

Her comment went ignored as both Kenma and Kuroo were intrigued by Satoshi's immersion into his tale. However, a certain detail did not go unnoticed.

"Why was she in the hospital?" Kenma asked.

"Physical therapy. She was recovering from an injury."

"Oh, Yakkun mentioned you were a runner. Was it sports related?" Kuroo inquired.

".…No." Haruka shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The chef noticed and quickly intervened with his story.

"Yes, well Haruka-sama saw that Ojirou-san was in distress and asked her. Ojirou-san in her mourning, told her everything. Haruka-san listened intently and then revealed to Ojirou-san that she and her family were regulars at our restaurant and loved our food and that she was not going to sit by and watch her family's favorite place fall." He laughed. "We thought she was simply a 14-year-old girl with a big heart, but Haruka-sama really showed us! She is a lady of her word. Next day, Ojirou-san was met a handsome man who introduced himself as Haruka-sama's father. He was willing to be a big investor and loan us a generous sum of money, and it didn't stop there. The Lee family is full of talents. Haruka-san's brother, Hiro-sama ( _"really,_ Satoshi-san, you are going to call Hiro that too?" Haruka grumbled) essentially created a brilliant advertising strategy using his media talents with his twin brother. Videos, photos, social network sites, they created a name for us on an online community. We started getting donations after donations. As for Haruka-sama, she was the mastermind of it all. She sat by Ojirou-san's side and practically became our financial advisor."

"What?" Kuroo cast Haruka a disbelieving class. Kenma however, did not seem as surprised.

"She's not valedictorian for nothing." He muttered.

"She was brilliant. We were grown ass people and even we couldn't fathom how fast her mind worked. Legal papers, documents, even business strategies. Haruka-sama even managed to dissuade the loan sharks."

Now that earned the girl confused stares from both the players by her side.

Haruka sipped her water.

"They were a part of a bribe scandal and an illegal gambling site." She explained shortly. "My father helped me hack their accounts."

So basically ".…You _blackmailed_ loan sharks?" Kenma stared at her in unblinking scrutiny. It almost seemed too diabolical to be something Haruka was capable of. How terrifying.

"No, I was just persuasive." She corrected in nonchalance, picking a plate of tuna from the belt.

Satoshi only chuckled. "Our Mononoke Sea was up and running once more, faster than we ever would have dreamed. And on the reopening, there were so many customers who came because they discovered us through the internet. It was a miracle. Our business is a family owned and family run one. Many of us here are related. It's a place that's been with us for generations, so we all owe it to her for keeping it alive longer."

"That's amazing." Kuroo had stopped eating since the story began, too compelled by the tale to focus on the food.

"My brothers love this restaurant." Haruka hoped to enlighten them out of the heroism Satoshi wove into the tale, but the memories made her wistful. "We had some of our happiest days here when we were younger. I couldn't let this place close down."

There was something distinctly melancholic about her expression. It was subtle, but her eyes wore a distant look as though she were reminiscing of something bittersweet.

/

"Please come again!" Ojirou Umeko bowed and waved the departing crowd of Nekoma students. Some of the boys carried themselves clumsily, having stuffed themselves to the brim.

"Owaaaaah." Yamamoto patted his protruding belly. "That was amazing...Sucks that the coaches couldn't come."

Yaku smiled sheepishly. "Well, we didn't expect to go to a place like this." They were accustomed to food from convenience stores and simpler diners. "Haruka!" The said girl turned. She carried a bag of takeout she had ordered for her brothers. Yaku's smile turned into a grin.

"Arigatou!"

"Yes! THANK YOU FOR THE MEAL!" The team surrounded the girl in a semicircle and bowed in unison.

They expected their coolly mannered manager to simply nod and pivot back to her graceful walk, but to their surprise she regarded them for a brief, unreadable moment, and smiled a genuine smile. It was a small smile, a simple upward curve of her lips, but her eyes were gentle and undeniably warm.

Her loose hair bun slid to the side as she tilted her head and returned their thanks.

"…Ah…Well…I enjoyed spending time with all of you." The statement was so sincere, it even surprised her as she spoke those words. A strange feeling swelled up within her at that restaurant, surrounded by the chatter and laughter of the team she managed.

She had forgotten what it was like to be involved in such a lively situation not because she was _needed_

but because she was _wanted_.

They were quiet now, regarding her with curious expressions. "Thank you for inviting me." Haruka bowed, needing the break in eye contact. Their focus was almost unnerving. Was there something on her face? The crowd had suddenly gone still.

In the distance, a cricket began to chirp. Then chaos ensued.

"AW, LEE-SENPAI!" Inouka So, their happy-go-lucky middle blocker who's first year status belied his towering frame and Haiba Lev the colossal fool very nearly leapt towards Nekoma's manager to hold her in an embrace.

Her smile vanished. Haruka flinched, no doubt fearing the possibility of being crushed by the oversized first years. But to her luck, two hands came and grasped their collars in a vice like grip.

"Oi. What do you idiots think you're doing?" Her saviors, Kuroo and Yaku, glared at the first years with a burning glower.

"…Giving Manager Lee a hug..?"

"Absolutely not! Haruka is off limits!" Yaku announced, his free hand on his hip.

"Since when?" Inuoka pouted.

"Now!"

"Why is it Yaku-senpai's call?"

"Because Haruka is my kohai!" That earned the said senpai a questioning brow from his kohai.

"While I appreciate the sentiment, Morisuke-senpai-"

"Yaku!" Yaku cut Haruka off, his glare now targeting her. The girl tilted her head.

"Eh?"

"Morisuke sounds so formal, Haruka! At least use my first name."

Haruka regarded him with a pensive gaze. Since entering Nekoma, she has never called anyone by their first name. There was never anyone close enough to her for that to happen freshman year aside from Kenma, and since then she grew accustomed to simply keeping things that way. She had to take a moment to think upon Yaku's demand.

So, she answered bluntly,

"No."

"EH? Why?" Her response all but doused Yaku's flame in cold water. He released his grip on Lev's collar and slumped. It almost made her feel guilty.

"Ah…Well it's just awkward for me. I'm not accustomed to-"

"We all start somewhere. Eventually you will." Yaku pressed. Haruka opened her mouth to once again refute his words, but to her surprise and relief, the captain intervened.

"Thanks for the life tip, Mama Yakkun. Now let's start sending the kids home." He drawled, ruffling Lev's hair.

It was starting to get late, and although it was the weekend, Kuroo had scheduled morning practice for the first years tomorrow.

"Ah, let's go Yaku." Kai and Yaku had similar commutes along with a good half the team.

"Fine. I'll see you guys tomorrow!" Yaku gave Lev an extra hard head rub for good measure before he and a portion of the team departed, bowing and waving to their new manager while they did so. She merely returned their wave with a delicate rise of her hand, unsure of how to feel with their sudden spike in affection. She supposed the theory was true in some regard that a way to a man's heart was through his stomach.

A third of the remaining number also were grouped in similar routes towards the eastern part of Tokyo. When they parted, all who were left were Kenma, Kuroo, and Haruka. Kenma and Kuroo were practically neighbors, and so it was natural for them to constantly commute together. Kuroo couldn't say the same for Haruka, but to his surprise, Kenma vouched for her.

"Haruka-san. Do you still live downtown in Hiroo?"

"Hai."

"Oya, you live in Hiroo?" It was an upscale district of Tokyo known to have a quiet suburbia. Coincidentally, it wasn't too far away from their humble apartments. "We've never seen you on the train."

Haruka shifted her feet. "I tend to go by bus. The train can be a bit suffocating." Bus routes took longer, forcing her to wake up early for her commute but for her the sacrifice was well worth it since the alternative was more repulsing.

The metro perverts were the problem. During morning rush hours when the carts were packed, it was the worst. Haruka had a more than her fair share of near nightmarish experiences with lecherous old men on the subway, to the point where she eventually stopped using them.

"Haaaaa." Kuroo regarded her curiously. "Mind if we commute with you then?"

/

The commute was quiet. Kenma had his eyes on his game console, Kuroo was content to remain silent, and Haruka was simply exhausted. It was as though the long week's exhaustive events were finally weighing down on her, and the sudden hang out that ended the hard week only served as icing on the cake. The exhaustion wasn't entirely unwelcomed though. She had been sincere when she spoke. The dinner was enjoyable. She'd daresay this was the most enjoyment she's had with school mates.

But now she simply wanted to go home and unwind as soon as possible with some classical music. Her ankle ached and the knee of her amputated leg nearly creaked when she sat on the vacant seat in the subway. There were empty seats around her and across from her, but to her mild surprise, the Nekoma setter and captain proceeded to sit at her side, sandwiching her.

Her shoulders stiffened at the sudden proximity, but after some thought she relented. Them taking the seats by her side would stop the risk of strange or drunk men sitting there.

There was a collective sigh amongst the three high school students. Kenma sifted through his bag in search of his gaming console while Kuroo simply eased into his seat, legs spread apart, head leaned back near the window. In his periphery, he watched as Haruka gave a subtle wriggle in her seat, like a bird readying her nest. Her bookbag and takeout rested on her lap, leaving her hands free to finally undo the large bundle of hair wound up at the nape of her neck.

It was like watching a blue blood feline groom itself. She let the rose dusted hair fall in rivulets to one side, minding it carefully to keep it from bothering Kenma. There was a faint waft of fragrance touching Kuroo's nose as she absently combed her fingers through her hair. The scent was distinctly herbal, therapeutic even. Judging by the way Kenma's nose twitched, no doubt the setter detected it too.

Haruka let loose another sigh and after combing her hair, she rested her hands on her belongings. The fatigue settling into her bones began to act like a narcotic, inviting her to sleep. The warmth did not help her alertness either. The heat permeating from the tall and broad shouldered middle blocker was addicting to her small body which would often suffered from chills and poor circulation. The beckoning drowsiness weighed her eyelids down like an anchor. She didn't know when her eyes closed but in the moment they did, her body drifted her off to sleep.

Kenma noticed her closing eyes before Kuroo did. She looked tired. The bruising shadows under her eyes were prominent under the brightly lit subway. After a few stations into the ride, her shoulders began to relax, losing their form-perfect posture. Her head began nodding back and forth in a delicate, sleep driven sway until the slowing momentum of the subway pushed it to Kuroo's side. When Kuroo felt a weight press against his upper arm, his body froze, and his face turned.

He couldn't see her face from his angle, but with a deep breath he inhaled the herbal scent coating her atmosphere. Rosemary…that was the smell. She probably uses some sort of rosemary hair product. It was so soothing, especially after a long day of practice, that Kuroo Testuro had half a mind to give into his urge to rest against his cheek against her head and bury his nose into the aromatic smell of her hair. He reigned in the temptation and turned his head to face forward but not before giving one last long sniff. The action was subtle, but Kenma had sharp eyes. His fingers paused their button pressing and golden eyes flickered briefly to his best friend's face-it feigned innocence. Not wanting to awaken the tired girl, Kenma shrugged and returned to his original task of fighting the new horde of monsters.

Usually when Kuroo was curious about a girl, he was devious more so than usual. There would be a glint in his eyes much like a cat with a new toy. Kenma still saw a bit of that flirtatious tomcat behavior now and then when Kuroo turned his eyes to Haruka, but at that moment he simply looked content.

To Kuroo's disappointment, the tranquility of the commute wouldn't last. The half hour ride felt like a five minute one. When they came to their stop, Kuroo almost pouted.

It was likely he wanted to relish his moment as Haruka's pillow, but Kenma wouldn't have it. Haruka wouldn't appreciate missing their stop. So, he gave her a shake on the shoulder.

Her response was instantaneous. Spine straightening with a snap, Kenma was afraid she would crick her neck with the sudden motion but Haruka, after her initial surprise, looked more concerned by her sudden nap than anything else.

"Eh?" She pinched the bridge of her nose, still bleary eyed from sleep and fatigue.

There was a soft pat on her head as Kuroo stood up. "It's our stop. Let's go...unless you wanna sleep here with the drunkards?" He teased, his usual crooked grin returning.

She rubbed her eyes, blinking blearily. ".. What?"

The girl was adorable when she was sleepy. Almost like a tired kitten or puppy.

"C'mon." The subway doors were about to close. He reached out both his hands, one grabbing her belongings, the other grabbing her hand. His long fingers and strong palm enveloped the slender appendage. Kuroo suppressed a shudder when he felt her skin. "Yuki-onna" was a very apt name; her hand felt cold-soft but icy cold. The girl needed to bundle herself more warmly. But he didn't waste time dwelling on the feeling of her hand inside his grasp as he tugged the tired girl to her feet and gently led her out of the sliding doors of the subway. Kenma followed suit, conscious of Haruka's sloppy steps.

Haruka's bearing seemed to return to her once she stepped out of the subway and quickly pulled her hand out of his grip. The tousle haired teen did not seem to mind, returning her belongings to her at her adamant face and gesture for them. When she settled her book bag on her shoulder and grasped the takeout, Haruka whispered in chagrin.

"Thank you."

Her soft thanks only served to widen the grin. "Don't mind~."

They began walking at a comfortable pace. In their stride, Haruka thanked Kenma. "And thank you for waking me, Kozume-san. Although I could've woken up sooner..." She didn't mean to use the middle blocker as a pillow. Mentally, Haruka berated herself, feeling a spike of irk when Kuroo only chuckled.

But Kenma had something else on his mind.

"It's Kenma." He muttered, hands tightening on his console.

There was a pause. Kenma mustered his will to maintain a nonchalant face, eyes still glued to the screen. But he was hyperaware of the questioning stare.

"…Kenma." He said slowly, "Kozume is so strange…"

"Ah, well like I told Morisuke-senpai, it's a bit strange for me..."

"…You used to call me Kenma before." He felt his neck grow hot. He wasn't used to being persistent like this. Thankfully, Kuroo remained silent and pretended to be preoccupied with his cellphone.

Haruka now regarded him with an indecipherable expression.

"Well before, we were friends. At least, I thought we were friends."

Now the strange silence turned uncomfortable. He looked away from the screen and met her eyes. There was no bitterness in her eyes, but they were uncertain. She hadn't expected his question and did her best to be honest like always. That did not mean it saved Kenma from the sudden stab of hurt.

"Were?" The monotony of his tone belied the sudden turmoil within.

Her stride became a walk with waning confidence as Haruka grew uncertain. She hesitated to answer him for a moment.

"I thought…Well…Granted, we only met because your grades were falling so you needed my assistance, but I thought we were friends. I enjoyed your company. But after you no longer needed my assistance, we never saw each other or really spoke again not until you asked me to be manager."

The hurt turned into shame. Kenma found himself wanting to drop his game and sink into the cracks in the concrete.

"Sorry." He never thought someone like her would want to continue knowing someone like him. Shame began twisting into regret until Haruka dissuaded him with a small smile.

She shook her head at his apology. "A part of it was my fault. It takes two to form a friendship. I also didn't do my part to maintain anything after we parted ways. I should apologize too."

Silence blanketed their walk once more.

"Now both of you won't have an excuse not to be friends." Kuroo interrupted the quiet with his lax statement. Kenma only appeared embarrassed while Haruka gave a small snort, her expression becoming thoughtful.

They were close to her neighborhood, a pleasant upper-class suburban area like they expected. Kuroo and Kenma had to go a bit further to arrive in their neighborhood, but they insisted-in their subtle way, to walk her home. Haruka had been too tired to protest. When they arrived at the front gate, they eyed the two-story house. It was larger than both their places, but there was something cozy about the white and earthen brown architecture.

"I'll see both of you tomorrow then?" Haruka looked far more comfortable now that she stood within her family's property. A gentleness exuded her being.

"You're coming out tomorrow? You don't have to." Kuroo said curiously. It was weekend practice. It wasn't mandatory for the coaches to attend and by extension, the manager.

"No, but I would like to be. There are things I would like to take care of ahead of time before the camp in May." She then briefly searched her jacket. To their surprise, Kenma's more specifically, she handed him her phone.

"Would you like to exchange numbers this time?"

They never exchanged numbers last year. If they did, perhaps things would have been different, and they would have kept in touch. The statement wasn't said, but it was clear. This was their chance to start fresh again and cultivate the budding friendship that was neglected last year.

"Ah." Kenma agreed, pulling out his own phone for the exchange. There was a fuzzy sensation growing in his stomach, a giddiness almost.

It was safe to say Kuroo was slightly put out at being excluded, though he wasn't one to admit it. Instead, he opted for a more forward approach and plucked Haruka's phone out of Kenma's hand as soon as Kenma was done.

"As manager, it's important to have the captain's number." He stated with more than a hint of arrogance. The said captain pulled out his own cellular advice and as he dual wielded both numbers, he made quick work of exchanging contacts.

Kenma only sighed at Kuroo's behavior while Haruka was amused at best. However, when her phone was handed back to her, the amusement soured into one of dry disapproval.

 **Contact id: TESTURO KUROO 3**

Kuroo snickered at her expression as she began to press buttons on her phone, most likely to alter the contact name. Kenma merely shook his head and gave Haruka a small wave.

"See you tomorrow."

"Ja-ne... Kenma-kun."

Kenma turned wide eyed while Kuroo simply wore his trademark smirk, speaking for them while Kenma remained mute.

"Seeya, Princess."

Haruka eyed the nickname briefly before she rolled her eyes and entered her house's gates. She heard Kuroo's chuckle and light teasing along with Kenma's toneless exasperated responses as she began giving Sirius his scheduled attention. When the sound of their footsteps was far enough to become silent, she entered her home.

"Tadaima."

"Welcome home!" Hikaru came hopping into view, sprained ankle wrapped firmly.

"You got takeout? It better not be that Chinese place." Hibiki had his studio headphones hanging on his neck.

"Eat what your caring sister provides for you, peasant." Haruka retorted.

Hiro entered the picture when she came into the living room. He was sorting through a pile of old film photos he took a while back.

"How was your day, sis?"

"It was fun." She confessed, setting the takeout on the table before sitting on the sofa. Easing her prosthetic leg, she leaned back and sighed. She thought back to the day's events. The harmony in the rowdiness, the rambunctious first years, the laughing, and the team's overall antics. It was the most excitement she had in a long time.

"Being a manager is interesting."

The three brothers gave each other looks at hearing those words. Interesting didn't seem like a big word to consider, but this was Haruka they were talking about. Their sister had a Titanium reinforced sense of disinterest towards anything school related unless it was about something academic. School went hand in hand with the words dull, depressing, simple, and troublesome for Haruka. To hear her say 'intereseting'...

Looks like there was hope for fun in their sister's high school life yet.


End file.
